Tutoring Arnold
by Azure129
Summary: Oh no-it seems Arnold needs a little help with his poetry assignment if he wants a decent grade in English!Hmm, I wonder what fourth grade poet laurete Mr.Simmons could assign to help him out...Set postconfession to make things even more fun!AXH! CH17!
1. A Long Weekend in the Making

_Reposted with grammar edits on 1/1/2010._

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Hello HA! fans, it's Azure129 again! I just wanted to give a big thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter of my first story, "A Walk to Imagine"—you guys are awesome! Anyway, here's a more lengthy story I'm going to be working on involving Arnold getting in touch with his more 'poetic' side courtesy of…you guessed it—Helga! I got the idea from the episode 'Grudge Match' when Arnold made up that golfing poem for Grandpa (which Grandpa described as "the worst, most stupidest poem I've ever heard", lol). It just struck me as such a funny contrast that Helga would have so much talent at poetry and that Arnold…well…wouldn't:). Anyway, I was going to set this pre-confession so we could all have a good laugh about how dense Arnold could be about the fact that all of Helga's poems are about him, but then it occurred to me that if I set it post-confession I could make things get really, REALLY awkward (and quite frankly, you just can't beat awkward, ;).) _I'm_ not even sure how things are going to turn out, so suggestions for what should happen next are more than welcome along with comments, criticisms, etc. All right, that's about it—R & R please:)

**Disclaimer:**

Anyone want to pool all our money and just buy this show, already? Oh, well--until that day, it belongs to Viacom, Nickelodeon and Craig Bartlett ;)

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 1:**

**A Long Weekend in the Making…**

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It was just another typical Friday afternoon in the fourth grade classroom of Mr. Simmons at P.S. 118. The kids had already finished their morning lessons of math and science, eaten lunch, and even concluded their history segment—the only thing left was English and, with only fifteen minutes to go until the bell would ring at 3 o'clock, few people were paying attention to what the enthusiastic young educator standing in front of them was saying.

"Alright class, since I won't be seeing you for two full days I have a very special writing assignment to give to everyone—due Monday! Isn't that exciting?!"

At this announcement, the class suddenly turned from staring in unison at the slowly ticking clock to looking at Mr. Simmons with wide-eyed stares accompanied by familiar groans.

Harold Berman, a portly kid who had been sneaking glances at a comic hidden in his desk, was the first to speak up. "AWWW…I hate writing, it always takes so _long_!" He crossed his arms in front of himself and took a bite out of a candy bar hidden in his shorts pocket.

A skittish looking boy in go-go boots named Sid seconded Harold's comment. "Boy howdy, there goes the whole weekend!" He stretched his arms across his desk, and put his head down with a loud sigh.

"Now class," began Mr. Simmons, realizing that even more students were about to make some kind of complaint, "it won't be that bad. Actually…I'll make you guys a deal!" A few people quit grumbling, giving their teacher the benefit of a doubt. Others went back to watching the clock, hoping that time would run out before Mr. Simmons could officially give them the assignment. He continued. "I was going to assign you a brief book report, but, instead I'll make it a creative writing assignment! This way you won't have to do any research—just write something that's uniquely you. I've got it! How about each of you writes a short poem about something that inspires you? That'll make the assignment go even quicker! What do you say?"

A few small moans and an occasional eye role from his students showed Mr. Simmons that, even though they were still a bit unhappy, his special class found this task a bit more reasonable than the one he had originally intended.

"Good. Now, before the bell rings let me hand back the practice poems we did in class earlier this week. Most of you seem to have really grasped the concept of rhyme and meter, and it was very interesting to see what each of you chose for subject matter—I really learned a lot about your passions and inspirations. Okay, let's see…" Mr. Simmons sat at his desk, fumbling through some papers. Finally, he pulled out a stack and began walking along the rows of desks handing back the pages to their respective authors. "Sheena, very nice use of haiku…Rhonda, excellent use of imagery; I felt like I could actually 'see' the outfit you were describing…Helga," he placed the paper upside down on the feisty pig-tailed girl's desk so no one would be able to see its contents and whispered with a smile, "as always a brilliant job; you should consider giving pointers to some of your other classmates."

He winked at her, but she only returned his compliment by sinking lower in her seat and crossing her arms in front of her chest. With a scowl she grumbled back, "Yeah, yeah," and, with that, she crumpled the paper up and threw it inside of the backpack lying open under her desk, seemingly without a care. Mr. Simmons shook his head, slightly disappointed, and continued down the row of desks.

Naturally, Helga G. Pataki would have liked to thank her teacher for his encouragement, especially since she got so little from the other adults in her life. However, she _did_ have a 'reputation' to maintain, and it simply wouldn't do to have her fellow classmates know that the toughest among them had a talent at possibly the softest and most sensitive art form; poetry. All she could hope was that no one had heard what Mr. Simmons had said to her before leaving her desk to attend to the next student. '_Oh well_…' she thought to herself. With a sigh Helga turned around to count down the minutes on the clock herself, though not before sneaking a glance at her muse—the _reason_ she felt so inclined to write as much and as well as she did. He was a young boy with a wide head and soft yellow hair whom Mr. Simmons was currently approaching.

Mr. Simmons stopped alongside Arnold's desk with a concerned look and gave a small sigh. "Arnold…may I speak with you after class?"

Arnold briefly turned up a corner of the paper now lying face down in his desk and blinked in surprise at the grade he saw. "Um…sure Mr. Simmons."

Just as the last student received their assignment back, the bell signaling the weekend rang throughout the small classroom. Instantly, the entire group of fourth graders grabbed their belongings and raced into the rapidly filling hallways of P.S. 118. The entire group that was, except for the lone Football Headed boy now sitting in front of his teacher's desk, awaiting an explanation about the mark he had just received. It wasn't that he had failed or anything—Arnold always did his best to do a thorough job on his homework, and he always handed it in on time—but a C+ just wasn't a common grade for him.

Suddenly, Arnold heard a loud 'thump' from behind him, almost like something heavy had fallen. He quickly turned his head around only to see Helga G. Pataki trying to pick up several textbooks that had fallen through the bottom of her suddenly broken backpack. Under normal circumstances, Arnold would have jumped up and helped any of his classmates in such a situation. Yet, he hesitated a moment before going over.

He had just felt…well…_awkward_ around Helga ever since last month when he and his best friend Gerald Johanssen had saved the neighborhood from being torn down…or, more specifically, ever since Helga had told him a very unforgettable secret on top of the FTi building just minutes before their adventure had finally ended. As a result, for the past few weeks he had hung out with her in groups, even spoken to her on occasion during the daily barrage of insults she gave him, but at all costs he avoided having to be alone with her. He didn't want to be insensitive…he just didn't know what to say.

'_Still, maybe she __did__ just make it all up. Maybe it __was__ just all in the 'heat of the moment,' or some kind of joke or something. Anyway, I'm probably just overreacting. I mean REALLY—Helga G. Pataki in __love__ with __me__?' _Arnold had been trying for weeks to convince himself that all those things she had said—what were her exact words: 'stalking you night and day, building shrines to you'—weren't true. Yet, deep down he couldn't deny that there had been a sincerity to her confession. Arnold knew that he had seen a side of Helga that he had only suspected was there before—she was a decent person, not just some self-centered bully. If she would risk so much just to help him save everything he cared about, was it so crazy to believe that maybe she could have genuine feelings for him...to accept that maybe the girl standing in front of him might actually…

Arnold had begun to get lost in these thoughts, but suddenly he snapped back to reality. He realized with surprise that he had begun smiling as this idea had entered his mind, and shook his head with a start. '_This is crazy_… _why can't I just let this go?'_

Arnold focused his attention back on Helga's scattered books and sighed as his good nature took over once again. No matter what the circumstances he simply could _not_ ignore a friend in need and, finally, he walked over to Helga's desk and began to gather up a stray notebook or two. At first, his admirer didn't seem to notice his presence—her face remained blank, as though she was thinking about something other than the task at hand. But suddenly she noticed that several of the items she was about to pick up were already off of the floor, and she looked up in curiosity only to see the not-so-secret object of her affections quietly helping her, though he hadn't made eye contact yet.

Needless to say, Helga had _also_ felt a little uncomfortable around her beloved ever since her confession. The way she had just 'blurted it out'—somehow it felt all wrong…And then taking it back? She wished she could do it over again, but there was no turning back: Arnold had heard her secret and nothing would ever change that.

'_I guess I'm just lucky he bought that whole 'heat of the moment' excuse…it seems almost too good to be true…' _She just wished this tension between them could be broken; it was like just being alone together begged some kind of response from him to what she had said, regardless of whether Arnold thought it was the truth or not.

Taking a quick glance around the classroom to make sure her other classmates were gone, Helga swallowed hard and suddenly stuttered, "Oh…um, th-thank you A-Arnold," in as sincere a voice as she could muster.

Arnold stood perfectly still, holding the few items he'd picked up in his arms, and then smiled and replied, "Um, sure Helga." For a moment their eyes met, but then the two ten-year-olds quickly turned away from each other and began to nervously clear their throats and stare awkwardly at the floor. Suddenly, both noticed a small crumpled paper at their feet that had apparently fallen out of Helga's backpack along with all of her schoolbooks. Having fewer things in his hands, Arnold decided to reach down to retrieve it. Helga, however, remembering what exactly was on that paper, rapidly made a grab for it not realizing Arnold's intentions.

WHAM!

"OUCH!" both fourth graders yelled in unison. Their heads had just slammed together, hurling them in opposite directions to the floor.

Helga's books scattered again (along with several of Arnold's this time). Helga quickly shook her head and, taking advantage of Arnold's distraction with rubbing the small lump now forming on his forehead, casually reached out her hand to snatch up the crumpled poetry assignment. However, Arnold hadn't forgotten his mission and, while one hand held the bruise now forming on one of his temples, the other still attempted to grab the paper ball.

At the unexpected feeling of their hands touching the eyes of both children suddenly widened. Arnold and Helga instantly jumped back from each other.

Arnold stood, no longer concerned with the injury to his oddly shaped head, and felt his cheeks redden. "Um…sorry, Helga." He began to pick up the few items that had fallen from his own backpack.

Helga quickly gathered together the books around her feet, stood, and with a slight blush replied, "Um...just…forget about it, Football Head." She walked past him toward the doorway as fast as she could, startled by her obvious reaction to his touch and a bit shocked by his own reaction to hers. '_What's up with __him__? Is he really __that__ freaked out by me? Ugh, he must think I'm a total loon from all that stuff I said to him on top of that building. Crimeny Helga—it was bad enough when he just didn't like you, but now he thinks you're completely crazy too!'_

Lost in her thoughts, Helga almost dropped her books yet again as she just missed colliding with Mr. Simmons who was now reentering his fourth grade classroom. "Oh Helga, good; I'm glad you're still here. You're just the person I had in mind!"

"Huh?" Helga exclaimed, still a little startled.

"Both of you please, sit down," he said, motioning toward Arnold and Helga. Both grabbed seats in the front row near Mr. Simmons' desk, Helga still very confused by what her teacher had meant with his strange greeting to her.

Mr. Simmons stood in front of his desk and gave a brief sigh before beginning. "Arnold, I want to talk to you about the poem you submitted in our practice workshop last week—the one I handed back today."

Arnold pulled the graded page from his pants pocket and said in a slightly dejected voice, "I thought so."

Curious, Helga glanced over and noticed the grade on Arnold's paper with surprise. '_Ouch…what could have been so bad about his poem?' _she wondered.

"Arnold," continued his teacher, "you're one of my most special students, and you shouldn't let this bother you. Keep in mind that poetry is a very, how should I put this…_subjective_ art form. In other words, it's not that you did a bad job on you're homework, it's just that I don't think you have a firm grasp on some of the fundamentals. For example," he took the paper from Arnold and scanned it, "It doesn't really seem like you were inspired by anything, you're just telling a narrative story in rhyme."

Arnold looked up at his teacher, slightly confused. "But I thought a poem could be about anything; what's wrong with talking about what happened to me and Gerald during the FTi scandal?"

Mr. Simmons smiled and looked back at his student. "It's not that something like that couldn't work as a poem, but I would like you to write more about how something makes you _feel_ rather than just what happened; a genuine human reaction to a person, a thing, an event…anything that _makes_ you want to write, that _compels_ you to write." The teacher then turned to the pig tailed girl sitting to his left and gave her a large grin. "A muse is what you'd call it, right, Helga?"

Helga had been looking on curiously, still not understanding why she was here and feeling almost outside of the conversation between her beloved and her teacher. This sudden recognition of her presence surprised her a little, but she quickly resumed her usual defensive attitude and with a classic scowl responded, "Hey, 'you're' the teacher!" Still, Helga didn't like him putting her on the spot like that, and especially in front of Arnold. '_Why does he have to make such a big deal about the fact that he likes my poems?'_

However, Helga's dismissive reply wasn't enough to dampen Mr. Simmons' spirits this time, and his grin only widened as he turned his attention back to Arnold. "Arnold, I think you could use some help from a more experienced student to discover the 'special' poet within yourself, and that's why I'd like to assign you a tutor."

Arnold had been paying careful attention to his enthusiastic teacher's comments, and nodded in understanding at Mr. Simmons' conclusion. "I guess that would be okay." It made sense; he was having some trouble, so _why not_ get one of his more skilled classmates to help him out? He briefly remembered the time he had tutored Torvald in math; it had been hard at first but, in the end, all the effort had been worthwhile and Torvald had actually improved _a lot_ as a student. Yet, Arnold, always a little dense, hadn't yet put together whom Mr. Simmons had in mind to help him out…

"Wonderful!" Mr. Simmons clapped his hands together and quickly turned his attention back to Helga, who had turned a little pale as she realized what her teacher was thinking. "And here's where _you_ come in Helga—I'd think you'd make the perfect poetry tutor for Arnold!"

Helga knew that if she hadn't already been sitting, her legs would have given out from under her at this announcement. Her mouth opened slightly in shock and she blinked a couple of times, attempting to find a way to respond to this absolutely impossible request. "Uh…I…I…I don't think there's any need for that Mr. Simmons." She laughed nervously and tugged at her collar to help alleviate the cold sweat now forming on her neck. "Besides, I-I'm really busy, and anyway I…I don't have any _experience_ teaching. Heh, heh…heh…" Normally, Helga G. Pataki would have jumped at the chance to spend time with her beloved, but how was she supposed to help him find his inspiration when _he_ was _her_ inspiration? To make things worse, he already knew (thanks to her confession) that anything she might write would be about him. The very idea of having to discuss her poetry with him not only brought the color back to her cheeks, but turned them bright scarlet. If she could barely spend a few seconds alone with him without the situation turning completely awkward, how could she be expected to share her most personal thoughts with Arnold FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND?!

Mr. Simmons gave her a hopeful smile. "Please, Helga? It would just be for this weekend's assignment, I'm sure the two of you would only have to get together a couple of times. And as for experience, well, you may not be a teacher Helga but you're sister was one of the best assistants I've ever worked with and I'm sure she'd be happy to help you if you have any problems. What do you say?"

During this little exchange between Helga and his teacher, Arnold had been sitting with his wide chin resting on his hand, and wondering to himself why his teacher would pick Helga G. Pataki to help him write _poetry_. '_He must be really impressed with what she writes to recommend her for something like this. I wonder what she's written abou-'_ Suddenly, Arnold's eyes widened and he swallowed hard as another small snippet of what Helga had said to him on the FTi building resurfaced in his brain… '_Who else do you think has been stalking you night and day, building shrines to you…__**filling volumes of books with poems about you**__?!'_

"NO WAY!" It was the first thought the disbelieving fourth grader had and now, unfortunately, it was the first thing he blurted out before he could stop himself. Both Mr. Simmons and Helga abruptly turned to stare at him after this outburst, and Arnold felt himself blush slightly as the realization of what he had just said slowly sunk in.

"Uh…" he cleared his throat a little, "I mean…Mr. Simmons, I really don't think you need to bother Helga. I'm sure I can just get help from Gerald or Phoebe or someone. You don't have to put her through the trouble of tutoring me, especially if she's busy with something else."

Listening to Arnold, Helga knew he must be feeling just as uncomfortable with all of this as she was and hoped that, between the two of them, they'd be able to make Mr. Simmons forget about this whole little project. She looked pleadingly at her teacher. "There you are, Mr. Simmons; I don't want to help Arnold and Arnold doesn't want help—it all works out nice and neat. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some appointments in my office down the hall so I'll just be going."

With a convincing smile, Helga grabbed her books and began to make her way to the door. However, she was stopped by one final argument from Mr. Simmons. "Helga, you know, _Arnold_ isn't the only one who needs to improve his grade in this area."

Helga's one free hand was already on the knob of the classroom door, but she suddenly stopped and turned back to her teacher with a questioning glance. "Huh?"

He sighed. "You need some improvement too, Helga."

Helga raised an eyebrow at him. "But I thought you said I was a 'skilled student?' "

Mr. Simmons' face became more serious. "You are Helga; at writing the actual poems. But your participation is very poor: you never volunteer to read your works in class, you never seem to take any interest in reviewing the assignments or understanding your grades, and you say almost nothing at all during any of our writing workshops. As it stands, I won't be able to give you more than C in creative writing too."

Helga's eyes narrowed in frustration and she returned to her empty desk in the front row, realizing that she had been beaten. Big Bob would never let her live down a C, especially since Olga had just sent them all copies of her latest straight A+ report card along with laminated prints of the official letter stating she had made the Dean's List for the seventh semester in a row.

Helga sighed; there was no way she could imagine using her abilities one-on-one to help Arnold find 'his own special inspiration', but she absolutely WOULD NOT do anything to reveal to the entire fourth grade that Helga G. Pataki was the class poet laureate. _'And at least if I go along with Simmons on this I'll get to spend some time with Arnold. Besides, it's better that just __he__ knows about my poetry than our __entire class__. And maybe I won't even have to actually show him anything I've written…I could just discuss techniques with him for a few hours or something. This might not be __so__ bad.'_ In short, she could spend one awkward weekend with Arnold or an unbearable adolescence being taunted by her classmates for her 'sensitivity.'

However, before she could answer, Arnold suddenly announced out from across the room, "I'll do it if it's okay with Helga."

Helga stared at him questioningly, but Arnold only looked at Mr. Simmons who smiled and replied, "Excellent, Arnold! If you do well on this assignment, I'll replace your C+ with whatever new grade you earn." He turned back to his other student. "Well, what do you say, Helga?"

Helga merely nodded with a blank expression on her face, too confused to respond any other way.

While Helga had been considering the consequences of being a Pataki with a less-than-perfect GPA, Arnold had been doing some thinking of his own. '_Why doesn't Helga want to tutor me?'_ The thought nagged at him all the while Mr. Simmons was convincing Helga of her stake in all this._ 'I mean, I know why __I__ don't want her to—if there's even a chance that all of her poems are somehow about __me__…well, I just don't think I could face her. But, if her poems aren't about me, then why would she seem so nervous?' _After a minute of going back and forth in his mind like this, Arnold had finally come to a conclusion. '_If I let her tutor me and all that stuff about 'loving' me is a lie then all that'll happen is we'll both get a better grade…'_ He had let out a small sigh at this point. _'…And if I'm wrong and she really has been writing about me…well, then at least I'll know for sure what the truth is once and for all.'_

"Good, it's all settled then!" Mr. Simmons happily exclaimed, and went back to his desk as his two students gathered together their things and headed toward the door to finally start their weekend.

"Oh, Arnold, can you stay for one more minute?" called Mr. Simmons as the two students prepared to head through the open door.

Arnold and Helga looked at each other with blank stares for a moment, then Helga shrugged her shoulders and with a casual, "Catch you later Football Head," walked into the hallway and out of sight of the P.S. 118 classroom.

Arnold approached Mr. Simmons' desk with a questioning look, wondering what other news his teacher could possibly have for him.

Mr. Simmons leaned against his desk. "Arnold, I'm really glad you and Helga agreed to do this. She really does need the experience just as much as you do, and not just for your grades. I think you two can learn a lot from each other…" He smiled. "Just…be patient with her."

Arnold raised an eyebrow at his teacher.

"What I mean is, give her time to show you what she's capable of, Arnold—I guarantee you'll be surprised." Mr. Simmons winked.

Arnold nodded his head, and headed for the door again. "I'll try. Goodbye Mr. Simmons."

"Have a good weekend Arnold," he waved to his finally departing student, "and I expect to see something 'special' from both of you come Monday!"

Arnold took a deep breath as he headed through the now deserted halls of P.S. 118. If there was one thing he already knew without a doubt it was that Helga G. Pataki could be surprising.

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**A/N:**

Well, that's about all for now..._Will_ Helga show Arnold her poems?! _Can_ Arnold spend an entire weekend with Helga under the circumstances without being put in an incredibly..._revealing_...situation—possibly for them both?! _Why_ am I asking you guys when _I'm_ the one who's supposed to be writing the fanfic :) ? Well, that's because I'm more than open to any of your suggestions, of course! I already have a pretty good idea of what the main focus of the next chapter is gonna be; I figure I'll do one for Friday afternoon, one for Saturday, one for Sunday, and one for Monday morning when we finally see the fruits of Helga's labor ;) Otherwise, I'll know what happens as I'm writing it and not a moment before. Please R&R!

ArnoldXHelga 4ever!


	2. To Read Or Not To Read

_Reposted with grammar edits on 1/1/2010_

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**A/N:**

_Scene: The deserted city streets, a few alleyways, a cold grey evening. We see Azure129 running down a sidewalk looking over her shoulder and breathing heavily. Sirens wail in the distance._

_Azure129: "You'll never take me alive!"_

_Suddenly, a few cops pop out of an alley up ahead and cut her off. She runs and they pursue (picture the first song sequence in Aladdin, where he's running away from the guards. You can even imagine me singing the song if you like :) )_

_Suddenly, Azure129 is cornered in a dead end, police cars with sirens wailing surrounding her. A cop with a blow horn steps out of one of the cars._

_Cop: "Azure129, this is the Viacom Police—give up!"_

_Azure129: "Okay, look I'm sorry…please, give me one more chance!"_

_The Viacom police discuss with each other for a few moments._

_Cop: "Okay, but you better make it good!"_

_Azure129 (smiling): "Okay, I swear on pain of my computer crashing and deleting every HA! fanfic I've ever written, every HA! music vid I've ever made, and every HA! ep I've ever illegally downloaded, that I DO NOT OWN HEY ARNOLD! __**YOU AND ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE AT VIACOM DO (along with Craig Bartlett, who rocks my world of course.)"**_

_Cop: "That's better! And don't ever forget to put the disclaimer on a story again…otherwise we'll be back!"_

_Azure129 (winks): "Gotcha!"_

_Viacom Police turn to go, when all of a sudden the cop turns around with a confused look._

_Cop: "Wait…what was that about 'illegally downloaded' episodes?"_

_Azure129 (looks away from him): "Uh…nothing…well GOTTA GO!"_

_Azure129 escapes into the night._

_Cop (yelling at the top of his lungs): "We'll get you one day Azure129!"_

_END SCENE_

**A/N:**

Hello, everyone! Sorry if that confused anybody, but I realized about 5 minutes after I posted the first chapter to this story that I hadn't put the disclaimer up, and then I was just going to put it on this chapter but frankly I think the whole imagined chase scene is much more entertaining, don't you? (Especially if you imagine the Disney song sequence with it, lol). Anyway, here's Chapter 2 and thank all of you so much for your reviews and ideas. I meant to get this up last night, but I decided it needed a few last minute changes, and then I had to work this morning…you know the drill. I know I said that each chapter would correspond to a single day, but I decided for the sake of getting things set up that this chapter would be a continuation of Friday's events. I hope you enjoy it as much as the first chapter, and you can expect another update in the very near future! Please R&R as always

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 2:**

**To Read or Not to Read**

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"Are you serious, Arnold? A whole weekend…with _Helga Pataki_?!" Gerald Johanssen came to a dead stop on the sidewalk upon hearing this news from his best friend.

Arnold stopped as well and gave a defeated sigh. "Well, we just have to meet once or twice…Besides, it's the only way Mr. Simmons would let us fix our grades."

Gerald shook his head and both boys resumed their walk home. "I mean, you'd think Simmons would assign someone like, I don't know, Phoebe to help you." Gerald's face softened a little. "I mean, she's so smart—I'm sure she'd be great at it…" Arnold noticed the sudden change in his best friend's attitude at the mention of their classmate Phoebe Heyerdahl and couldn't help but smile a little at his obvious affection for the girl. After a moment, Gerald shook his head like he was coming out of a daydream and continued. "Speaking of which, what subject is she so good at that Mr. Simmons thinks _she'd_ be the right person to help you out?"

"Well actually…" Arnold began, but then he paused. Should he mention to his best friend that this whole thing was about a poetry assignment? He considered it; he didn't like keeping secrets from Gerald, but it didn't seem like Helga wanted anyone to know about her ability. And what if Gerald told some of the other guys? Her secret talent could be all over P.S. 118 come Monday morning, '_In love with me or not, she'd kill me…Besides, it'd feel too much like I was betraying her trust.'_

"Uh, Arnold? Hello, _Arnold_?"

Arnold blinked a moment, and then turned to look at Gerald. "Huh?"

"Are you okay man? You seem a little out of it?" Gerald's expression became concerned.

At this point the two boys had reached the boarding house stoop and Arnold approached the front door. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just a little tired...I think I'll try and get my homework out of the way and maybe take a nap." '_That way all I'll have to worry about for the rest of the weekend is how to handle things with Helga_,' he added mentally.

Gerald looked skeptically at his best friend, but finally replied, "Well…okay man. But if Helga starts getting on your nerves just give me a call—you know I can always get my man Fuzzy Slippers to dig up some dirt on her…Something that we can use to really drive her crazy."

Arnold laughed to himself a little. '_Don't even bother with Fuzzy Slippers, Gerald; I already know pretty much everything Helga never wants anybody to find out.' _Outwardly, he shook his head at his best friend and just smiled. "Gerald, I really don't think it'll be that bad. Besides, I told you before, I don't want to—"

Gerald rolled his eyes and finished Arnold's sentence. "I know, I know, you 'don't wanna stoop to her level.' Seriously though, man, maybe it's time you started playing hardball with Helga Pataki—it's not like she hasn't been asking for it all these years."

Arnold sighed at the familiar advice and opened the door to the Boarding House. "See you, Gerald."

Gerald waved to his best friend. "See you, man." His face suddenly took on a wide grin as he added sarcastically, "and remember: if she hits you, just _lay_ down and _stay_ down."

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Arnold had gone up to his room as soon as he entered the Boarding House, not seeing anybody as he made his way to the attic. In fact, he had been there for an hour. Yet, rather than taking a nap and finishing his other assignments as he had been planning, Arnold had merely been sitting in front of a blank computer screen for the last hour, his textbooks out of his backpack but still untouched, and arguing with himself about something small that was clenched in the fist of his right hand.

Arnold continued debating with himself, as he had been for the past hour. "I really shouldn't—I mean, I don't really have a right to...right? That settles it, I'm not looking!" Arnold quickly stood up from his desk and threw the small paper ball that he had been fingering across the room, where it landed without a sound on the pillow of his bed. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he threw himself on his red couch, grabbed the stereo remote on the nearby table, and, after pressing a few buttons, the mellow sounds of jazz began to fill the air around him. The confused fourth grader turned on his back and stared through his ceiling skylight at the white clouds above. For a moment Arnold was silent and anyone watching would have guessed that his decision, whatever it was, was, at this point, final…But, suddenly, he sat up and walked over to his bed, once more eyeing the paper ball that continued to casually rest there.

"Then again…I mean it _would be_ for the good of the assignment…and it _might_ save Helga some time…and it looks like she _was _going to throw it away anyway…" He grabbed the object and began to toss it up in the air a few times as he continued. "And well, if it _is_ about…_me," _he couldn't help but blush slightly at the idea, even though no one else was around to hear it, "then I do have some right to see it, don't I?"

This was the fourth time Arnold had convinced himself of a course of action only to suddenly change his mind. Ever since he'd come home, emptied his backpack, and discovered Helga's crumpled poem among his own things one powerful thought had been eating away at him: '_Should I read it?'_

Arnold brought the ball closer to his eyes; there were a few words visible from the outside but nothing to reveal too much about the contents—except, of course, for Helga's name made perfectly visible by the bold purple ink in which it had been written. Arnold still couldn't believe that after all the trouble Helga had gone through trying to get that ball (and after all the trouble _he'd_ gone through trying to get it back to her—he still had the bruise on his forehead to prove it) that somehow it had ended up here with _him_. Arnold began to pick at one of the poem's corners, almost wishing that it would fall open like a book for him to read.

Instantly, though, he felt a small pang of guilt and dropped it back on his bed. "No…somehow it's just _wrong_. This belongs to Helga—it's hers no matter what it's about. If she wants me to see anything she's written then I'm sure she'll show me sometime this weekend. I should just give it back to Helga when she comes over…or at the very least throw it away."

At this point, Arnold turned off the music and moved his gaze to the small wastebasket by his desk. With a defeated sigh, he grabbed the crumpled paper from his pillow and slowly walked toward the little trashcan. He paused a moment in front of it with his hand raised, ready to drop the paper and the idea of reading it's contents once and for all…

Suddenly, the sound of a loud knocking at his door startled Arnold and, on an impulse, he instead shoved the ball into his pocket and quickly yelled, "Come in!"

Without hesitation, Arnold's door flew open and his already fast heartbeat quickened as the most unexpected (and ironic) person imaginable walked right in and planted herself directly in front of him.

Helga Pataki crossed her arms in front of her chest and with a slight smirk said, "Hiya, Football Head? How's tricks?"

Arnold hesitated a moment, still a little stunned by her presence in his room. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Oh, um, hi, Helga. I didn't realize you wanted to start so soon…um, I was just…" Arnold scanned his room until his eyes rested on the textbooks scattered on his floor, "…cleaning up!" He quickly walked over to his backpack and shoved the books inside, for some reason feeling as though he had to come up with some kind of alibi even though he knew that Helga had no idea that he had her poem.

Arnold turned to look at Helga over his shoulder. "You can sit down on the couch if you want!"

Helga scowled. "Hey, give me a little credit, Arnold-o! I wouldn't just show up at your house without calling or something. And besides, I _do_ have better things to do with my Friday afternoon than schoolwork, ya' know! I just came by to let you know that my schedule is booked solid for the rest of the day but I'll be over at noon tomorrow and we can get this thing over with; got it?"

Arnold tossed his backpack onto his couch and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, sure. Sounds good." The sudden surprise of Helga's arrival was finally wearing off and before Arnold continued he took a deep breath and added in a much calmer voice, "I really do appreciate the fact that you're helping me, Helga."

Helga gave an impatient sigh and turned her face away from him, as though she was bored with whatever he was saying. "Yeah, yeah, don't get all sentimental on me Head-Boy. It's not like I had a choice, after all, thanks to Simmons." Her scowl returned and she focused her eyes on Arnold, pointing her index finger right at his face. "Just make sure you're awake by noon sharp, buck-o!"

Used to Helga's sudden mood swings, Arnold simply smiled and replied in an easy voice, "Sure Helga, whatever you say."

Helga gave him a satisfied smirk. "Good—you just keep up that attitude and we'll work out fine together! Now, all I need is your poem." Helga held out her hand with an expectant smile on her face.

Arnold blinked. "What do you mean?"

The pig-tailed girl in front of him gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, Arnold, how am I supposed to help you 'discover the 'special' poet within yourself_,' _" Helga made air quotes with her fingers as she repeated the words of her teacher from that afternoon, "if I don't read your poetry? Crimeny, you're lucky I'm even taking time out of the rest of my day to read it before we start tomorrow. Now, are you gonna give it up or what?!"

Arnold had been so consumed all afternoon with thinking about reading _Helga's_ poetry that he hadn't even considered the fact that she would certainly have to read _his_ _own_. He considered for a moment and suddenly an interesting idea occurred to him. Without hesitation he walked over to his desk drawer and took out the English assignment Mr. Simmons had handed back to him such a short time ago.

With a small smile Arnold approached Helga and placed the page in her hand. "Here you go, Helga; I hope you find some way to bring it up to your standards." He winked at her, hoping the comment would make her more receptive to the next thing he would say.

A bit thrown-off by his sudden change in attitude (and the compliment he had just given her), Helga swallowed hard but managed to maintain her composure. "W-Well, I-I'll see what I can do, Football Head." She closed her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest again.

Arnold began to pace around her a bit, hoping to catch her off guard. "Great—It'll be a big help having you look over what I've done…"

Helga folded the page and placed it inside of her jumper pocket, replying in a more sarcastic tone, "I'm glad you see my point, Football Head. Now…I'll just be leaving—see you tomorrow!" She approached his door and began to turn the handle to open it.

Recognizing his opportunity, Arnold took a deep breath and casually added, "And it'll also be a big help getting to see some of what _you've_ written…Maybe then I'll have a better idea of what Mr. Simmons is looking for." He walked a few steps closer to her and continued. "You don't happen to have a copy of one of the poems you've written on you, do you? I mean, if _you're_ gonna become familiar with what's _wrong_ with my writing style, I think it'll only help us both if _I_ become familiar with what's _right_ with yours."

Arnold waited to see if there would be some kind of unusual reaction from Helga to his words; something to tell him if he was hot or cold as to whether her poems did indeed have anything to do with him. However, Helga had been prepared for this question and responded without missing a beat. "Well, sheesh, Arnoldo, do you think I carry around a bunch of old school assignments with me everywhere I go? Crimeny, it's not like I have a poem in my pocket or something." '_At least not since that incident with my pink book,'_ she couldn't help but think. "I throw them all out as soon as I get the grade—what's the use in them after _that_?" Helga couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of pain at having to say this last part of her little speech. '_Oh, Arnold, if only you knew how much I treasure each and every word I've ever written about you…I wish I could show you every volume I've ever labored over, all locked tight away with my shrine of you. Oh, why did I have to take my confession back, my little love god? Maybe now, instead of hiding from you like always, I'd be showing you the fruits of the inspiration you've given me over all these years.'_

Arnold couldn't help but feel a little disappointed; his only chance at confirming Helga's alleged 'love' for him might be seeing those poems. He knew it wouldn't be fair to just look at the one he had found without her knowing…but if she had been going to show him others anyway he might have been able to justify at least peeking at it.

"Until tomorrow, Football Head!" Helga had the door open and was about to walk out when, all of a sudden, Arnold had one final idea.

"Um, Helga…"

She turned to look at him with an annoyed expression on her face. "Oh, for Pete's sake, what else do you want?"

Arnold put his arms behind his back and turned his gaze from her eyes to the floor. "Hypothetically, if you _did_ happen to have saved any of your assignments from class you _would_ let me look at them, right?

Helga's face became blank. She raised an eyebrow and in a confused voice slowly replied, "Uh…yeah…I guess so…" Her eyes narrowed a bit. "Why?"

Arnold's grin widened and he quickly walked over to her. "Oh, no reason—just asking. Well, I guess you have a lot of stuff to do, so I'll let you leave! Goodnight Helga!"

"Uh, okay then—goodnight, Arno—" But before Helga could finish, a smiling Arnold already had her out on the steps leading to his attic room, and the door shut behind her.

Helga scratched her head and looked in confusion at the suddenly closed door. "Hmm…what's _he_ up to?" She didn't like how Arnold had acted in their last few minutes together, and she _definitely_ didn't like something about that last question he had asked her. She paused for a moment and considered going back in, but then sighed and shook her head to clear it. '_Nah…what am I worried about anyway?' _She chuckled a little. '_I mean, Arnold isn't exactly a genius when it comes to figuring me out.'_

Helga walked down the steps and began to make her way to the Boarding House exit. '_I'm probably just being paranoid…I mean, come on, Helga old girl, this is just homework—get a grip!'_ Helga was finally downstairs at this point and opened the front door, stepping out onto the stoop. "That's right, Helga—you're holding all the cards here. What could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

Back in Arnold's room, the young fourth grader was now sitting on his couch with a smile on his face and the crumpled paper ball out of his pocket. He turned it around in his hand as he spoke. "Well…maybe she isn't going to show me any of her other poems—it makes sense after all that she might not have them anymore. But…" his voice perked up a little, "she did say she _would_ if she _could_…"

Arnold walked over to his desk, sat down, and cleared a small space. He sighed. "So, in a way, she said it would be okay to read it…" Arnold unfolded the paper, smoothing it out flat against the hard surface of wood, and turned it right side up.

"Helga Pataki, Mr. Simmons, 4th Grade, Poetry Assignment…"

Arnold stopped and took a deep breath. _'Okay, enough stalling—let's get to the actual poem…'_

But, for some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. No matter how much he wanted to justify it, somehow Arnold knew what he was doing was just not fair. '_If you had just told her that you'd found her poem, she would have actually given you __permission__ to read it and you wouldn't have to sneak around like you're doing now. And how would__ I__ feel if Helga found something personal of mine and twisted my words so that she could feel better about invading __my__ privacy?' _He sighed._ 'That settles it, I'm not doing this—Mr. Simmons said I should just give her some time and that she would show me what she can do all by herself…'_

Arnold was about to shove the open poem off of his desk and into the wastebasket once and for all when, all of a sudden, the words of another person he had spoken to that afternoon popped into his head. ' '_Maybe it's time you started playing hardball with Helga Pataki—it's not like she hasn't been asking for it all these years_.' '

As the words of is best friend echoed in Arnold's mind, a flood of memories began to wash over him of all the times Helga had jerked him around, taken his side only to shove him in the dirt, then told him she hated him, she liked him, she didn't care, and then to top it all off that she 'loved' him only to take it all back again. And even now he was tearing himself apart and it was all over _her_! And all so she could stay 'hidden'—making everyone think she was someone she wasn't, playing games at the expense of others...

Normally, all of these things as separate occurrences had never really bothered Arnold much. Yet, as he mulled over how many times they had happened and how many times he had just let them slide—and how many times Helga had just let them happen again—he became more and more frustrated. Suddenly, he stood up from his desk so fast that he knocked his chair to the floor, a restless expression on his usually cheerful face. "That's it! I can't keep waiting for Helga to 'come clean.' It'd be one thing if I had all the time in the world to figure out who she really is but I've only got this weekend to get close to whatever she's hiding!" Arnold began pacing, the intensity of his voice rising. "This might be the only chance I'll ever have to know her true feelings..."

He righted the chair and sat back down again, letting out an exasperated sighed. "If I want to know the truth about Helga once and for all I'm going to have to find out about her myself..."

Arnold moved the poem back in front of him and began to read again. " 'Untitled' " He sighed. "Well, that's not exactly revealing, is it? Oh well…." And with those words Arnold slowly turned his eyes toward the first line of Helga's poem, hoping to find some clue about the mystery behind the most confusing girl he'd ever met.

* * *

**A/N:**

Okay, there's Chapter 2! Thank you guys so much for your reviews again—it's so nice to know that people are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it :) I'm really excited for writing Chapters 3 and 4—3 will probably be up sometime this week if I can get enough free time to myself (ugh, I hate work.)

Arnold & Helga 4ever!


	3. SecretsAndTheSecretySecretersWhoKeepThem

_Reposted with grammar edits on 1/1/2010_

_

* * *

_

**A/N:**

Whew! Hey guys, how's everything going? Sorry this chapter is a little late getting up, but I've been stretched a little thin lately (don't worry though—I'm on vacation now and it's so nice to have a break from all the craziness, lol.) Anyway, it took me a while to get this chapter written and then fixed up, but I really hope you guys enjoy it just as much as the first two. I originally wasn't going to reveal the exact words of Helga's poem at all and just use it as a general symbol for any of her Arnold poems, but I figured that since I left you guys with such a cliffhanger last time that I owed it to the story. In fact, Helga's poem is the first thing you'll see once you start this chapter (I hope it's in character—I was really nervous about writing it!) Also, rather than making what happens on Saturday one chapter I've decided to split it up into two chapters (it was just getting too long, and I think a break in the action will help even out the flow a little). I'll probably do the same thing for the events of Sunday, and as for Monday…well, we'll see :)

Sadly, I have no internet where I am right now :( This chapter is only getting posted because I managed to find an internet café in town and get a ride there. But I'll be working on the next chapter while I'm here and it should be up sometime next week, so stay tuned!

Thanks again for all of your reviews; I tried to respond to as many as possible on the reviews page! You're all a great audience and I hope you guys keep reading :)

Oh, and a special thanks to **DeepVoice** who helped inspire the first line of Helga's poem with an idea she has for a new fic! I hope you post it soon DV, I know we'd all like to read it—especially after the success of "Cafeteria Confessions" and "April Fools Day: The Unaired Scene" :)

And so, without further ado…

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 3:**

**Secrets and The Secrety Secreters Who Keep Them**

* * *

_'Untitled'_

_Everyday I was playing the game:_

_Keeping you distant, insulting your name._

_But you always came back with that boyish smile,_

_Never letting me bother you for more than a while._

_But one day you caught me trying to help._

_You must have been surprised—me thinking not of myself._

_And I did something I hope you don't regret,_

_Though you seem to believe I didn't mean it._

_I was happy before, though you couldn't see,_

_But I took a chance, hoping you'd accept me._

_Alas, love, why can't you get a clue?_

_Despite what I've said, I'm still crazy for you._

Helga had been unintentionally reciting this poem over and over in her head as she continued to feverishly tear first her backpack and now her entire room apart in search of an item she was desperately hoping to find. It was already 11:30 AM but she was still in her nightgown, her hair flattened and tangled from her recent night's sleep. It was a beautiful spring day outside and the sun shone brightly through Helga's window, reminding the frantic ten-year-old just how far the morning had already progressed.

Helga had just finished checking yet again underneath her bed for the object she was trying to find. She suddenly stood and stormed over to her torn and obviously empty backpack to shake it out for the tenth time since she'd woken up. "Come on, come on—it's gotta be here!"

Helga stopped shaking the bag and paused for a moment as though she actually expected something to drop onto the floor in front of her feet this time around. Unfortunately, after already being torn yesterday in school and now subject to an entire morning of furious shaking at her hands, the bag was on its last leg. So, rather than reveal to Helga the object she desired, the entire thing simply broke in two leaving Helga holding the lower half in her hands as the upper half plopped casually onto the pink carpet of her room.

The fourth grader scowled and threw the remains of her backpack over her shoulder with a growl.

With a defeated sigh, Helga threw herself back on her bed and in a tense voice began scolding herself for her carelessness. "Sheesh, what was I thinking—writing about my _confession_! Brilliant, Helga, now the entire student population of P.S. 118 is going to know about possibly the most awkward day of your life!" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "Okay, Helga, old girl, there's no reason to panic—it's not like you wrote his 'name' on it or anything." She went over the words of her poem in her head again just to make sure. After confirming that Arnold's name did indeed appear nowhere in the lines of her most recent homework assignment, she paused for a moment and then sat up with a hopeful smile. "Besides, a janitor probably just swept it up…it did fall on the floor after all."

This thought comforted her a bit but she was still a little worried. Actually, Helga probably would have already forgotten about the poem in question if it hadn't been for one thing. Ever since she had left Arnold's house yesterday evening she hadn't been able to stop thinking about the strange thing he had asked her before pushing her out the door: ' "_If you __did__ happen to have saved any of your assignments from class, you __would__ let me look at them, right?" '_ In fact, she had been so preoccupied with her love's slightly unusual question the entire evening and even as she fell asleep that the first thing she had done upon waking up was look for the crumpled assignment. She wasn't actually considering showing it to him…but somehow she felt a little guilty about not being able to give Arnold some kind of example to go on. '_Maybe I could just show him a few lines…it's not like I have to tote all fourteen volumes of my Arnold poetry over to his house in a red wagon or anything_.'

However, an hour's search of not only her school books but her entire room had turned up nothing so far; the crumpled paper she had been so careless about yesterday was definitely lost and quite possibly in the hallways of P.S. 118. To put it bluntly, a love poem with Helga Pataki's name on it was lying in the open in a place where any of her classmates could find it…and read it.

As this last thought entered her mind, Helga shuddered a little. '_With my luck, whoever finds it'll start chanting the thing throughout the hallways as soon as I walk in the school next week…'_ With a gulp of fear she turned on her side and pulled her knees close to her chest. '_No…that's too simple. Whoever they are they'd probably find some subtle way of letting me know they have it, and then use it to get anything they want out of me—favors, money, information.'_

Helga's face lost its scowl and took on a look of sadness. She turned on her back again and retrieved her Arnold locket from her nightstand where she always stored it each night before bed. "Oh Arnold, I'd probably tell them anything they wanted to know if it meant protecting all that's happened between me and yo—"

' "_It'll also be a big help getting to see some of what you've written…" '_

' "_You don't happen to have a copy of one of the poems you've written on you, do you?" '_

' "_If you __did__ happen to have saved any of your assignments from class, you __would__ let me look at them, right?" '_

These pieces of the final minutes of her conversation with Arnold flooded Helga's mind in an instant and culminated with the memory of her and Arnold trying to pick up their books off the floor yesterday afternoon…along with one very special poetry assignment that she had suspiciously not seen since that time.

Helga's eyes widened as the truth about where her poem probably was hit her. "OH…MY…" Luckily, no one else was in the house that morning to hear the piercing scream that erupted from the ten-year-old girl's bedroom.

* * *

Arnold sat on a small foldout chair on the roof of the Boarding House, a slight warm wind blowing his yellow tufts of hair in the bright sunlight. However, rather than staring at the clouds lost in a daydream as he usually did when up here, his glance was bouncing from a watch on his wrist to the street below with a look of mild frustration on his face. "Hmm…it's already past noon…I wonder where she is?"

With a sigh, Arnold closed his eyes and reclined his head back, secretly thankful for at least one more moment to himself before his first study session with Helga Pataki. Silently, he began to try and sort out his thoughts yet again that morning—and he had plenty to sort out.

Last night, following the departure of his new poetry tutor and constant childhood tormentor, Arnold had done something very out of character for himself: after hours of moral debate and weighing the consequences of potentially his only chance to get a little closer to the truth about what Helga was hiding once and for all, he had put his own desires before his friend's privacy and read her poem.

Certainly, it had taken him a little while to realize exactly _what_ the poem was describing. In fact, he had taken his time rereading it over and over to make sure he wouldn't miss anything Helga might have been trying to say (however unskilled Arnold was at writing poetry, he had always been twice as horrible at interpreting it.) And, after a full evening of such careful study of Helga's poem, Arnold was pretty sure his suspicions were finally confirmed: Helga G. Pataki did, indeed, seem to love him.

Still, he had some doubts; just because this appeared to be the only logical conclusion didn't mean he was ready to accept it. '_I mean, it doesn't have my __name__ in it or anything, but it definitely seems to be a love poem to someone. Someone she's insulted, someone who doesn't believe her, someone she cares about anyway…' _Arnold blushed slightly. '_Still, there's a chance it could be __someone else__—I mean, who's to say I'm the only person she's ever 'loved?' '_

Arnold wasn't entirely blind though; every time he had begun this train of thought a much more logical conclusion had overpowered it. '_You knew she was telling the truth, Arnold…you just didn't want to deal with it then. And you know that you're the only one that fits in the poem…If anything, she didn't use your name because it's so obvious that she's talking about __you__.'_ Arnold had been having this conversation with himself while trying to fall asleep the previous night, and as this final thought came to him he had pulled his pillow over his face with a defeated sigh. Exhausted from the confusion of the day, he had fallen in to a deep sleep quickly and as he had begun to dream a new idea that he couldn't quite understand (and that he couldn't quite recall entirely in the morning) had begun to appear in his mind. '_And what would be so bad…if it __was__ about me…?'_

Now, Arnold sat on his roof with a seemingly limitless number of questions crowding his mind. '_How long has she felt this way? Why would she act so mean all the time instead of just saying something? And why deny it after going through all the trouble of confessing to me, and on one of the craziest days of my life_?'

Arnold opened his eyes and removed the beat-up poem from his pocket, with a smile on his face. "I can't believe she wrote this, though—I guess I really couldn't understand what she meant by all that stuff on the FTi building until I saw it with my own eyes." His face took on a half-lidded gaze. "Hmm…I wonder if this means that the stuff about 'stalking me night and day' and 'building shrines to me' is true also?" Although he probably should have been a bit uncomfortable with that possibility, Arnold couldn't help but a laugh a little at the idea of Helga going to all that trouble of instead of just simply telling him the truth. He shook his head in amusement. '_Nah, she must have been exaggerating…I would've noticed something by now.'_

Regardless, Arnold put these last two items at the back of his mind as things to address later if he even got that far with Helga.

For now, though, he was still a little torn about how he should handle the situation. Last night all that had been on his mind had been finding a way to read Helga's poem—he hadn't even considered about what he might do afterwards.

Arnold yawned, stretching his arms in the warm spring air. "Well, I suppose I should just confront her about it…that would be the most direct thing to do." His face took on a slightly worried look though. "But what if I'm wrong—I mean, it seems like she wrote it about me, but there's always a chance…And what if she's mad I read her poem? What if she denies everything again? I don't want to scare her off, I just want to tell her the truth."

He sighed and stood up from the chair, walking toward the edge of the roof to get a better look at the still empty street below. "Maybe I should just approach the subject slowly…I don't want to embarrass her. I'll just see if I can get her to talk about her poetry and maybe that'll help me be sure that this one is about me…and figure out if there are others…" Arnold sighed. "Then maybe I can finally bring up what happened on the FTi building so we can talk it out together." Needless to say, neither he nor Helga had even approached the subject of her confession since it had happened, both of them too embarrassed and shocked to say a single word.

Suddenly, another thing Arnold hadn't considered popped into his head. '_What do I say to her? If she admits she loves me again…how could I even begin to respond to that?'_ He considered. '_Well, if she's telling me how she feels I guess I should just tell her how I feel…that I like her and admire her and consider her a friend…but—'_

Suddenly, Arnold's eyes widened and a smile appeared on his face as he saw a blur of pink and blonde running down the street and up his stoop. He quickly raced through his open skylight and dropped onto his bed. He walked swiftly toward his door, and was about to hurry downstairs to let an apparently frantic Helga Pataki into the Boarding House when all of a sudden the door flew open and Arnold felt something crash into him, knocking him back onto the carpet of his room.

Arnold propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head to clear it, his eyes still closed. He could feel a weight on his body and thought for a moment that his pet pig, Abner, had somehow barged through the doorway and landed on him. However, he heard a familiar moan and opened his eyes only to see Helga sprawled on top of him, likewise rubbing her head and trying to shake off their sudden collision.

Used to bumping into Helga like this, Arnold normally would have apologized for hurting her and helped her up. But, instead, his eyes widened and he yelled in a somewhat panicky voice, "HELGA!" and quickly lurched away from her, leaving the girl to pick herself up on her own for once. It was strange, but suddenly he felt very uncomfortable being so close to her—his stomach had twisted in a knot and his heart seemed to skip a beat.

Once out from under her, he paused for a moment and tried to shake off this sudden anxious feeling; he supposed it was just an effect of knowing for certain how she felt about him. _'This is going to be harder than I thought…I need to take things slowly.'_

Arnold swallowed hard and forced himself to reach out his hand to help up Helga, though she was already standing. "Crimeny, Football Head, were you waiting behind the door on purpose or something?!" She noticed his extended arm. "What are you doing?"

Arnold forced a smile even though he still felt a little nervous. "Um…I was just trying to help you up, Helga."

She folded her arms in front of her chest and rolled her eyes. "Well, I think you're a little late since I'm obviously already standing, Arnoldo! Sheesh!"

Arnold put his arm back down and blushed slightly. "Oh, right—sorry, Helga."

"You should be," she shot back in a victorious tone. "Okay, we've wasted enough time—let's get started so I can get out of here already!" Helga barged past him and sat at Arnold's desk, putting her feet up on the tabletop and staring him down with an annoyed look.

While Arnold considered what he should ask Helga first, Helga had her own thoughts on her mind. She knew she couldn't flat out ask Arnold if he had her poem; there was always a chance that he had just picked it up but still hadn't noticed it among his things, though her shrewd nature doubted it. To put it simply, Helga was angry; she didn't like the idea of Arnold having something of hers and she was absolutely furious about the idea that he would invade her privacy. She had decided, after racing out of her house to Arnold's only minutes after her final search, that she would find a way to get Arnold to admit whether or not he had read her poem and then handle the situation from there. All she had to do was be clever and ask the right things…Arnold was smart but she knew he was far too righteous to lie to a direct question. Besides, if there was one thing Helga G. Pataki knew how to do it was how to work Arnold.

"Right…um, okay." Arnold walked across his room to grab his backpack off the floor near his bed. '_What's wrong with me? I need to calm down or she'll start suspecting something. If anything __she__ should be the one who's nervous here; it's not like __I'm__ not the one who's in love.' _Arnold felt a bit more confidence at this last thought.

However, as he made his way across the room back toward Helga with his backpack slung over his shoulder, a new and even more interesting concept came to Arnold's mind: he realized that he had never really considered what Helga loving him might mean. He thought back to all the times he had been 'in love'; Ruth, Ms. Felter, Summer, Lila. Helga's feelings seemed to be a bit stronger than his had been considering what she'd said in her confession…but there had to be some similarities, nonetheless right? As he finally neared Helga, now lugging a chair in his free hand so that both of them could sit at his desk, Arnold tried to recall the effect being in love had had on _him_. '_Well, let's see; I always felt really nervous when I talked to the person—like I couldn't think straight, and I always found myself thinking about them whenever I was alone, and whenever I got near them I felt really goofy and light inside…'_

Lost in this train of thought, Arnold's face had taken on a very lovesick expression complete with wide grin and half-lidded gaze by the time he reached Helga with the chair and his schoolbooks.

From Arnold's desk, Helga had been watching the changing look of Arnold's face as he made his way across the room. As his altered, so too did her own expression began to shift from one of typical 'Helga G. Pataki' annoyance to a curious glare and finally a slightly nervous stare. '_Uh oh…I know that look…__**he knows**__!' _Helga felt her heart beating faster and faster—what if he was going to confront her directly? Just lay the poem out right in front of them both on the desk and start talking about her 'feelings' and how he valued her as a 'friend'? Helga swallowed hard, trying to keep herself planted in the chair when all she wanted to do was run as far away from this situation as fast as she could. '_I knew this was a bad idea; this whole thing! Forget it—I'd rather have a C than have to sit through this.'_

Suddenly, though, a new thought occurred to Helga that put the scowl right back on her face. '_What if he looks like that because he wants to show me some of his love poems about Lila or Ruth?! __**What if he expects me to help him with them or something?!' **_Helga clenched her fists—her anger at the idea of something like that happening was getting the better of her. '_I __swear__ if he puts one piece of paper from that backpack with the word 'Lila' on it in front of me I'm gonna tear it to shreds and then I'm gonna tear __him__ to shreds!'_

Despite these thoughts, Helga managed to maintain her seemingly relaxed position as Arnold sat down next to her still looking strangely happy. Seeing he wasn't about to come out of his trance any time soon, Helga asked the first question she could think of in as casual a voice as she could muster. "What's the backpack for, Arnoldo?"

Arnold's eyes suddenly opened wide and he shook his head to clear it. "Huh?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "I said, 'what's the back pack for,' Head-Boy?"

"Oh…I just thought we might need our English notes—"

Helga closed her eyes and slowly shook her head back and forth with an amused smile. "Arnold, Arnold, Arnold…you really do need help, don't you?" She noticed the confused look on his face but was so relieved that he actually _wasn't_ about to show her a bunch of sappy Lila love poems that her grin couldn't help but widen. "This isn't a research paper or an interview or something—it's poetry! You can't rely on some pre-planned structure and textbook examples to do it—it's something you have to come up with on your own. A poem says something about who you are…a bunch of 'notes' can't tell you that, Football Head!"

Arnold blinked in surprise—he had never heard Helga say anything so insightful before. Usually, she only seemed care about things until she got whatever she wanted out of them but there was something different about this subject—a passion he had only seen in Helga G. Pataki one other time before…the only other time she had ever opened up to him and showed him her true self and her true feelings…

Arnold wanted to ask her more about how she knew so much about what it meant to be a poet, but decided against it. '_This isn't getting us anywhere; I need to find a way to get her to talk about her last poem…'_

Meanwhile, Helga was having similar thoughts as she concluded her explanation of poetry to Arnold. '_I need to stop talking so much—I have to find a way to get him to bring up the topic of my poem! Let's see…'_

"Anyway, Football Head, all we'll need is some blank notebooks and some pencils. Think you can manage that?" She raised an eyebrow at him in question.

Arnold opened a drawer and pulled out a couple of empty spiral notebooks and two pencils. He placed them in front of himself and Helga. "Are these okay, Helga?"

She barely glanced at the items. "Yeah, yeah, fine. Oh, by the way," Helga fished in one of her jumper pockets and pulled out a folded piece of paper, "I looked at your poem." '_Perfect,'_ she thought to herself as she tossed the paper on desk in front of them, '_at least this'll bring up the actual assignment…Besides,' _she chuckled a little to herself, '_I've been waiting to ask him about this thing._'

Arnold momentarily put aside his mission to get Helga to admit once and for all how she felt about him. He had almost forgotten that they would have to discuss his poem, and he wasn't sure why but he was really curious about what she might have to say. He gave her his full attention. "Oh, great—so, what did you think?" He picked up the paper and began to unfold it. Suddenly, a look of confusion came to his face. "Helga, I thought you said you read it?" Arnold had been expecting correction marks, maybe comments in the margins—but the page looked just the same as when he had given it to her.

"Isn't that what I just said, Head-Boy?"

"But," he turned the page so it was facing her, "why didn't you correct it, then?"

Helga reached for a pencil and one of the notebooks and began absentmindedly doodling. "Arnold, how many times do I have to tell you? This isn't like a math problem where you didn't carry the 3 or something—it's about interpretation and personal experience. I can't just put some arrows in and cross some things out to magically 'fix' it! It's your poem and improving it as a piece of writing is entirely up to you!" She pointed her finger in his face at this last word, and then turned away from him and started playing with her pencil with a half grin on her face. "Though I do have some 'suggestions' if you'd like to hear them?"

"Uh, sure, that would be great, Helga." Arnold leaned back and placed his hands in his lap, waiting for her to begin. She stared at him for a moment, then finally rolled her eyes. "Crimeny, do I have to do _everything_?" She picked up the extra notebook and pencil and handed them to Arnold. "Here, Arnold—a notebook and a pencil so you can actually _take_ _notes_ on what I'm about to say."

Arnold blushed slightly in embarrassment. Despite his usually good nature he was beginning to get a little frustrated with Helga. He knew being rough around the edges was just part of her personality, but he didn't like that she still felt the need to be so abrasive even when they were alone. The smile left his face and his eyes narrowed a bit. "Fine. Let's start." Arnold touched the pencil to the blank page and waited again for Helga to begin.

Helga noticed his change in attitude and felt a small pang of guilt. '_Maybe I should lighten up a bit. I mean, it's not like anyone else is here. Besides, I'll never get him to spill about my poem if he doesn't even wanna talk to me in the first place.'_

She cleared her throat, and tried to sound a bit more sincere. "Well, to start, Simmons was right about the 'no emotion' thing. You pretty much just told a story that rhymed—no symbolism, no layers of meaning, no personal connection whatsoever."

Arnold turned his gaze from Helga to the blank page in front of him and began writing. "But I tried to write about all the important things that happened to me during the FTi thing—why doesn't that qualify as something personal?"

Helga flinched and almost felt a tear come to her eye. '_Well, thanks for including __me__ in all those 'important things' Arnold.' _Nowhere in Arnold's poem had he mentioned anything about Helga's confession. Not that Helga wasn't grateful that Arnold had kept quiet about her secret but, still…his comment had hurt a little.

Helga sighed and tried to continue with the lesson. "Arnold, _everyone_ knows about what happened during your whole 'saving the neighborhood' thing. It's boring! I mean, right from the opening lines of 'Gerald and I were playing ball, Then an evil builder came—he was really tall' to the closing lines of 'The neighborhood was happy because we saved the day, Everyone celebrated by shouting Hooray!' I felt like I was going to fall asleep! Why don't you try writing about something unique in your life—something no one else knows about but that has meaning to you?

Arnold saw his opportunity and went for it. "Is that what you write about, Helga? The secret things that matter to you?"

'_Uh oh, here's trouble.'_ Helga's eyes widened and she stared right at Arnold, a little thrown off guard by what he had just asked her. She swallowed hard and quickly said the first safe thing that came to her mind. "Well…what do _you_ think, Football Head?"

Arnold frowned—he'd been hoping for a much more revealing response. "Well, that's what you just said makes a good poem, right? So that must be what you write about."

Helga took a good hard look at him. '_All right, what's his angle? Arnold doesn't ask this many questions—EVER. I mean, sheesh, he once bought that I was just taking a walk when he caught me sleepwalking on his fire escape in the middle of the night! Okay, Helga, old girl—just relax and try to take control of the conversation…maybe you're just being paranoid.'_

"Yeah, so what's your point?" she countered.

"Well, could you give me an example? I'm not quite sure that I get what you mean by a 'personal connection'. Maybe you could tell me what _your_ last poem was about?" Arnold smiled; she'd have to give him something now. There was only one other way out of that question and he had a plan for handling things if she went for that option…

Helga smirked and stood up from the chair with the notebook and pencil in hand. "HEL-LO, Arnold! I thought we went over this yesterday!" She made her way over to Arnold's red couch and casually sat down. It had been nice sitting so close to Arnold but putting a little distance between them would give her a better view to observe his gestures so she could figure out if he was up to anything. Besides, it was nice being in his room and not being trapped either behind the couch or in the closet; she wanted to explore it from all angles while she still could.

After sitting, she continued her response. "I already told you that I don't save any of my poems! Sorry, buddy, but if you want examples I'm the wrong girl for the job!" Her eyes narrowed. "And as for the one I got back yesterday—it's strange but I can't seem to _find_ it…" She looked for a reaction but Arnold still had the same contented look on his face. "I know I had it yesterday afternoon…You didn't happen to see what I did with it before we started talking with Simmons, did you?"

A satisfied smirk came to her face. '_Perfect; there's no way Arnold would lie to a direct question! At the very least he'll come up with some flimsy and obvious excuse to get around it. I've got him now!'_

Holding his own notebook and pencil, Arnold simply continued smiling with an all-knowing half-lidded gaze and walked over to the couch to sit next to Helga. He'd been expecting this excuse but he knew there was an easy way around it…and maybe he could get a chance to test something he was curious about while he was at it.

Outwardly, Arnold looked perfectly happy and confident. Inside, however, he was feeling a small pang of guilt about what he was about to do. '_Still, it'll be interesting to see what happens…'_

Arnold gave the most truthful answer he could come up with without giving himself away. "Hmm, I didn't even know you were looking for it until just now." He noticed the smirk on Helga's face turn into a frown of disappointment, but continued. "Anyway, I know you said you don't have anything you can show me, but you must remember what some of them were about—I just figured you'd be more likely to remember the topic of the most recent one.

Suddenly, he took Helga's right hand in his left and added, "Please try and remember, Helga. You've really been helpful so far…but then again I wouldn't expect anything less from the best writer in our class."

At first, Helga didn't give any response but Arnold could see that her shoulders had tensed and her eyes had widened a little. She swallowed hard, and shot back, "Well…it's not like I'm doing any of this for you Arnold-o!" Her voice was shaking a little; Arnold hadn't expected anything like this. "And don't go spreadin' around that I'm some kind of froo-froo, la-de-da, prissy little sugar and spice 'poet'," she spat out the last word in as whiney and sarcastic a voice as she could muster. "Sheesh, just because Simmons has some kind of fixation on everything I write doesn't mean that—"

On an impulse, Arnold cut her off. "I'm just saying that you must be really good, especially for him to hand pick you as a tutor—that's all." He moved his face closer to hers as though he were studying something. "You must have written about some really wonderful things, Helga. I just want to get a better idea of what they are and…um…_why_ you chose them." This last part had been the hardest for Arnold to get out but it was what he wanted to know the most. He had control of the conversation and, knowing Helga's tendency to turn situations like that around in her favor, he wanted to take advantage of this temporary power as much as possible.

Helga couldn't help herself; she wanted to shut him down with a witty insult, a sarcastic observation, an obvious comment…anything! And yet…every word she'd ever written had been for Arnold, and to hear him actually interested in her work and even _complimenting_ it (even though she still wasn't positive that he'd ever actually read any of it while knowing it was hers) was a moment she almost couldn't bear to sabotage.

"Helga?" Arnold's face now took on a look of concern; she was just sitting there, staring wide-eyed at him and not saying a word. _'Maybe I'm going too far with all of this?_' he wondered to himself.

There was no doubt in his mind at this point that Helga definitely had feelings for him; he'd been looking for an opportunity to casually touch her and gage her reaction and he still couldn't believe the effect it had had. He'd come in contact with her before; in baseball and football games, and at school, and even bumping into each other on the side walk, but it had never been very personal and he'd never really taken the time to notice if she reacted any special way to being close to him. '_If she loves me' , _he'd been thinking ever since he'd remembered the effect that Lila and Ruth and the others had had on _him_, _'then I should notice something even if I just touch her hand. And it'll be helpful to know I have some kind of back-up plan if she starts trying to avoid my questions—some way to throw her off a little and make her lower her guard.'_

Now, however, he was definitely having some second thoughts about his plan. It all seemed too much like taking advantage of her feelings. He pulled his hand away and decided that he wouldn't do anything like this again unless he had no other option.

Helga came to her senses as soon as she was free of Arnold's touch, and with a gulp managed to say, "Uh, yeah, Arnold…uh, sorry I was just—just—just trying to…remember what my last poem was about, that's all."

"Oh." Arnold was about to ask her what she had managed to remember, but stopped. He felt he'd already pushed Helga enough for one day and didn't want to press her any more for answers. Anything else she might give to him would have to be up to her…

* * *

**A/N:**

Okay, that's it until next chapter! As always, R & R-ing is much appreciated ;) And stay tuned because I have some interesting plans for Arnold and Helga—this weekend isn't over yet, not by a long shot! TTYL!

ARNOLD X HELGA 4EVER!!!


	4. Lunch and a Poetry Slam

_Reposted with grammar edits on 1/2/2010_

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**A/N:**

Hello HA! fans, how's everyone doing? Summer going good for everyone—that's great! Okay, here it is (yes, I know, FINALLY) the next installment in "Tutoring Arnold". Sorry it took so long but it's a bit lengthier than the other chapters so it took me a while to edit it. I hope everyone likes it—I really tried to incorporate some of the suggestions people gave in their reviews. Let's see, this chapter has much more dialogue and much less internal thought. Also, for everyone who wanted to see someone else besides Arnold and Helga there are definitely a few more characters to contend with here. And, of course, a couple of awkward though hilarious moments without which any AXH story just wouldn't be complete ;). Okay, that's about it for now! Oh, wait, one more thing: there's a part towards the end of this chapter that was inspired by a suggestion from DeepVoice (DV: Thanx again:) ). I don't wanna give what happens away by telling you what it is just yet…let's just say it involves poetry…Alright, as always R & R is much appreciated! Enjoy the story!

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 4:**

**Lunch and a Poetry Slam**

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"Uh, yeah, Arnold…Uh, sorry, I was just—just—just trying to…remember what my last poem was about, that's all."

Helga knew it was a mistake the second those words left her lips, but it was all she had been able to think of. She knew she'd played right into Arnold's curiosity about her poetry and, if there had been any doubt in her mind that Arnold not only possessed but also had read her poem, it was gone now. '_What am I doing?! I should have shut him down—why am I such a basket case whenever I get close to him? Perfect, Helga—now he's going to ask you what you remember and, knowing you, he'll bat his eyelashes and you'll start reciting every ode to his glory that you can think of! Crimeny, there's gotta be a way out of this!'_

To Helga's surprise, though, all Arnold said back to her was, "Oh." He then broke eye contact with her, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, folded his arms behind his head, and started staring out his skylight as though their conversation had ended and he was now thinking about something else.

Helga wasn't sure what she should say next. The spell of having her true love so close to her had now almost entirely worn off but, even still, she was worried that at any minute he would grab hand or place his palm on her shoulder…something that would leave her completely at his mercy again. _'Who does he think he is, anyway?! If he really does realize how I feel about him he should know what something like that would do to m—"_

Suddenly, Helga felt a very uncomfortable realization wash over her: '_He did it on purpose…' _Helga crossed her arms in front of her chest and closed her eyes, unsure of whether she should be angry that Arnold had used her one weakness against her or sad that he'd taken advantage of her feelings or even proud that he had finally taken a small stand for himself against her. Frustrated by her conflicting emotions, Helga opened her now scowling eyes and with a restless sigh merely exclaimed, "Oh, for Pete's sake, Arnold!"

Arnold continued to stare at the sky above him for a second before slowly turning his head to face Helga with a blank expression. He raised an eyebrow in a look of curiosity, hesitated, and then opened his mouth as though he was about to say something when, all of a sudden, a knock at his door silenced him.

From behind the door came a muffled question. "Hey, Shortman, can I come in?"

Arnold paused for a moment, then blurted back to the familiar voice, "Uh, sure, Grandpa."

Arnold's Grandpa entered the room with a smile on his face. "Hey, boy, how's studyin' with your little friend going?" His grin became slyer as he looked over at Helga who sunk a little lower in her seat and continued scowling.

"Uh," Arnold turned to Helga, hoping to get some kind of confirmation from her that things between them were okay. However, she refused to make eye contact with him. He glanced back at his grandfather. "Good, Grandpa. We were just…" Arnold glanced down for a moment and then picked up his notebook, which had fallen on the floor by his feet. "…Just taking some notes."

"Mmm hmm." Grandpa walked back over to Arnold's door, still eyeing both ten-year-olds with an all-knowing grin. "Well, it's about one o'clock now. If you or your little friend—eh, what did you say her name was?"

"'Helga', Grandpa."

Grandpa rubbed his chin as though the memory of Helga's name had suddenly come back to him upon hearing it again. "Right, right…well, if either of you gets hungry, Shortman, your Grandma made lunch and all the boarders are about to start eating downstairs in the dining room. "

Arnold gave his Grandpa a slightly concerned look.

"Oh, don't worry, Shortman. The food's definitely edible this time—your Grandma's on an 'Old Southern' kick this week and cooked up a big batch of fried chicken and biscuits, and for dessert raspberry cobbler…MMM!" Grandpa rubbed his stomach in delight at the thought of this last treat. Arnold couldn't help but give a small half smile at the fact that his Grandpa was so excited about eating the one food he had always warned Arnold never to touch, and that always seemed to do his stomach so much damage.

Grandpa quickly shook off the happy thought of the cobbler awaiting him two stories below. "Anyway, you two join us when you're done hitting the books." His face took on an annoyed look as he opened Arnold's door and prepared to descend to the floor below. "I've gotta get down there before that lousy bum Kokoschka steals all the white meat!"

The door to Arnold's room closed and both Arnold and Helga sat in silence until the sounds of Arnold's Grandpa leaving faded away. Arnold turned to Helga. "So, are you hungry?"

He asked the question as though nothing had happened between them just now. Helga, still annoyed with him, though, for actually using the power he had over her for his own benefit, wasn't about to let things go that easily. '_He thinks that all he has to do is hold my hand and I'll start following him around like a puppy dog? Well, fat chance—no one controls Helga G. Pataki…not even Arnold…_

She whipped her head around to face him, brow still furrowed in a dark scowl, and shot back, "No!"

Following her response, there was a moment of silence between the two fourth graders in which Helga's empty stomach (she had been so busy searching her room for her Arnold poem all morning that she'd run out of the house before having breakfast) chose to give off a very distinct and audible grumble.

Helga folded her arms tight around her abdomen as though she was trying to silence this obvious sound, though she refused to give any other sign that she had heard it.

Arnold grinned. '_Why won't she just admit it?'_

"Are you sure Helga?" He raised an eyebrow in suspicion, and inched himself a little closer to her.

Helga closed her eyes and held her nose up high with a willful air. "Of course I'm sure, Football Head."

Helga was hoping that her stomach had finished its pleas for food, but she couldn't get the thought of the fried chicken and the fact that she hadn't eaten all day out of her mind. Helga inhaled and suddenly realized that she could smell the savory taste of the meal as its fumes made their way through the air vents of the Boarding House and into Arnold's attic room. Still, she held her ground…though her stomach had other plans.

Another loud grumble interrupted the silence between the two ten-year-olds, and Arnold had to try very hard to stifle a laugh at Helga's persistence. With a half-lidded gaze and a wide smile, Arnold continued. "I think you are, Helga."

He moved his face a little closer to hers but Helga was prepared for it this time and inched herself further away from Arnold, "No, I'm not _Arnold_."

He inched himself closer yet again, enjoying this game they seemed to be playing with each other. It was funny to see her acting so stubborn about something as simple as lunch, and all so she could maintain her 'pride.'

Arnold's smile widened even more and threatened to turn into a full laugh. "It _sounds_ like you're hungry, Helga."

Helga inched even farther away from him, trying to stare him down. In a slightly more shaky voice she shot back at him, "The only _sound_ you should be worrying about Arnoldo is what I'm _saying_—and I'm _saying_ that I'm NOT HUNGRY!"

Arnold continued to move closer to Helga. He felt tempted to grab her again so that he would have a better chance at winning this little argument they were having, but he remembered his promise not to touch her unless it was absolutely necessary. Instead, he merely continued smiling in an almost sultry way. Another loud growl escaped from Helga's stomach, and Arnold had to fake clearing his throat to cover up a laugh that finally escaped from him. "I _really_ think you might be, Helga. Don't be so stubborn." Anticipating that she would move away from him again, Arnold positioned himself just a bit nearer to Helga before she had a chance to do so.

A little thrown off by his proximity again, but still determined to have her way, Helga replied in as firm a voice as she could muster, "I am NOT STUBBO—OUCH!" Helga had made one final attempt to put as much distance between herself and Arnold as possible. However, she had run out of couch at this point and instead fell on Arnold's floor with a loud thump where she now sat rubbing her back.

Arnold stood up and finally couldn't contain himself; he laughed so hard that he had to hold his hands against his stomach to keep himself standing.

Helga glared at him, angry about embarrassing herself. "It's NOT funny!"

Arnold made an unsuccessful attempt to cover up his laughter with a few intentional coughs and headed for his door. "Sorry, Helga."

As his laughter finally subsided he turned back to Helga and said in an amused voice, "Well, if you do get hungry, I'll be downstairs getting lunch." Then with a wink he added, "I'm sure everyone would like to meet you—they're all a little 'different' but really nice once you get to know them." And with that, Arnold disappeared from the doorway entirely.

Helga stood up and brushed herself off. "Oh, fine, Football Head! I'll come down and eat with you if it means 'that much' to you. But only because I don't wanna spend half an hour alone in this creepy room of yours!" She yelled this last sentence out Arnold's doorway, since Arnold had already reached the floor below. He heard her but only shook his head with a grin. Soon, the sound of Helga descending the steps to his room reached him, and he waited at the end of the hallway for her to catch up.

Helga was a little sulky as she walked up the hallway to meet Arnold. '_Oh, well,' _she thought to herself, '_at least I'll get to have lunch with Arnold and his zany yet lovable family. I can always put him in his place later…Besides, that chicken does smell good!'_

Arnold gave Helga a warm look, and in a playfully sarcastic voice said, "I'm glad you decided to join me."

Helga folded her arms in front of her chest, but couldn't help cracking a small smile. "Yeah, well, don't flatter yourself, Arnoldo. Now, come on, are we gonna do this or what?" Arnold bowed slightly and stretched out his arm in front of them both as though saying 'you first,' and with that he and Helga made their way down the flight of steps and into the dining room where the entire Boarding House was seated around a table laden with two platters of hot fried chicken and several baskets of fluffy biscuits.

Arnold and Helga took two seats next to each other near the head of the table. Helga knew that, as far as Arnold knew, she wasn't supposed to be familiar with any of the identities of the Boarders. However, considering the number of times she had snuck into his house, Helga had a pretty basic understanding of who everyone was. She went over what she had learned over the years of stalking Arnold in her head. '_Let's see; that's that Mr. Huynh guy whose daughter Arnold wanted to find last Christmas, and that guy sneaking all the drumsticks into his pants pocket must be that Mr. Kokoschka that Arnold's Grandpa was talking about—I guess he's married to that blonde woman who keeps kicking him every time he shoves another one in there, heh heh. I don't think I've seen the short one too often…but I feel like I know him from somewhere…eh well, I'll think of it later. Hmm…now all that's left is—'_

Suddenly, Arnold's Grandma burst into the room whistling a Dixie tune and dressed in a full-length yellow southern belle dress complete with hoop skirt. In her right hand she held a large confederate flag and in her left a pitcher of homemade lemonade which she placed on the table as she concluded the last few notes of her song. In a southern accent acquired specially for the occasion she addressed the table, "Attention troops: General Lee has just informed me that you all will be sent to the front lines at 2400 hours tonight, so eat hearty and strike a blow against the boys in blue for me! Give a cheer for the Confederacy!"

"Take it easy, Pookie, and put down that flag before you hurt yourself!" Arnold's Grandpa managed to grab the flagpole out of his wife's hand and he leaned it against the wall behind him.

Arnold was used to his Grandma's antics, especially when it came to mealtimes, but he blushed slightly as he considered what this must all look like to Helga. He leaned close to her and whispered, "Uh, that's my Grandma. She's just a little 'enthusiastic'…"

Helga, who had already taken several bites of one of the chicken breasts she had put on her plate, looked at Arnold with a smile in between swallows. "Arnold, I'm lucky if I get a decent meal out of Miriam twice a week. If your Grandma can cook like this I don't care if she starts tap dancing on the table!"

Arnold's look of worry changed into a surprised smile—he'd never heard Helga sound so grateful before, and he rarely if ever heard her compliment anyone or anything. He chuckled a little, and muttered, "Don't give her any ideas."

Arnold poured himself a glass of lemonade and took a long, refreshing gulp, feeling much more relaxed than when his Grandma had first come charging in to serve them all. '_Maybe Helga will start to relax a little too. Then I can start trying to bring up the subject of her poetry again…or maybe even the FTi building. After all, she seems much happier already.'_

Arnold put down a piece of chicken he was about to start into and took a quick glance at Helga; she was smiling and getting herself a second helping of biscuits, and smirking every time Suzie nudged Oskar for trying to smuggle food.

* * *

A little while later, Helga had made herself a central part of the mealtime conversations going on around the Boarding House table. Indeed, she seemed to hit it off well with everybody.

Mr. Potts was discussing his most recent demolition with her.

Pretending to pull the lever of his wrecking ball, he described a typical demolition to Helga. "So, then, we clear the area and I just pull back and…BOOM! Bricks flying everywhere, huge clouds of dust," he jumped to the floor, excited just by the idea of knocking down a building, "and a few sticks of dynamite to break up the foundation if I can manage it." He winked and nudged Helga with his elbow.

Helga laughed and gave him a sly look, now remembering where she recognized Mr. Potts from. "They're still letting you use the dynamite even after you and Big Bob blew tried to blow up the entire block to stop Sheck?"

Mr. Potts blushed a little and whispered to her, "Well, all we really destroyed was a billboard. And besides, uh…'strictly speaking,' not too many people know that I was the one who supplied the dynamite for that anyway, so no one's really been checking up on me. I mean, what the authorities don't know won't hurt 'em, right?"

Helga winked at him. "That's what I always say!"

Mr. Potts smiled at Helga and then turned to Arnold. "Hey, Arnold, your little friend here's alright. You should bring her over more often!" He lowered his voice. "And anytime you two wanna see my, uh, _stash,_ just come up and I'll give you both the grand tour."

Suddenly, across the table Suzie cried out "OSKAR!" as her husband took out several plastic sandwich bags which he was now filling up with chicken since his pockets were full.

Suzie ribbed her husband hard to make him stop but Oskar Kokoschka only rubbed his side with a hurt look on his face and said, "Aw Suzie, I was just making sure that the chicken stayed fresh. Besides, if someone has to eat the leftovers, why not us, heh heh?"

Grandpa's face took on an angry expression, and he shook his fist in Oskar's direction. "Kokoschka, you thief—that food is for everyone, now put it back!"

Oskar turned his pleading eyes to his landlord. "Aw, but Grandpa, we almost never get food this good. And Suzie is such horrible cook. Just a few more pieces, please—"

"Kokoschka, if you don't put that food back you won't eat at this table for a week!" Grandpa turned back to his own plate. "And stop calling me 'Grandpa!'"

Reluctantly, but to Suzie's great relief, Oskar put back the chicken he had stuffed into the plastic baggies. "Honestly, Oskar, do you have to do this every meal—and when we have company?!"

Suzie motioned to Helga, who scoffed and replied, "That's nothing—you should see Big Bob at the all you can eat buffet. He makes Miriam fill her entire purse with food. Like he always says," Helga puffed out her cheeks and prepared to do her best impression of Big Bob Pataki, "'It's all you can eat and just because I can't eat it all of it now doesn't mean I won't want it later.'"

Oskar resumed his argument. "You see, this dear child agrees with me. Maybe just one more piece—" However, before he could grab any of the chicken, Grandpa had reached over and pulled the platter to the far end of the table.

Suzie rolled her eyes. "Oh, Oskar." She then turned back to her food, hoping that her husband's antics were done for the day.

Suddenly, though, Suzie looked up from her plate and gave Helga a questioning look. "Sweetie, did you say your mom's name was 'Miriam'?"

Helga took another swig of her lemonade. "Yeah. Miriam Pataki. Why?"

Suzie smiled and her eyes lit up with recognition. "Was it your family that shared the beach house with us during your spring break?"

"Yup, that was us." Helga cut herself a slice of the raspberry cobbler, which was now being served as the meal came to an end.

"You know, your mom and I actually got to know each other really well that week. We took some free dance lessons and, in fact, it was one of the best vacations I've ever had." Susie ribbed Oskar again, this time for trying to sneak a piece of the cobbler into one of the plastic baggies. She turned back to Helga. "Hmm…I didn't even realize Miriam had a daughter?"

Helga swallowed the bite of cobbler she was chewing and averted her gaze slightly downward. "Yeah, well…I was a little 'busy' for most of the trip." '_Yeah, busy keeping that two-timing, back-stabbing, boy-using, bimbo Summer away from my man!'_

Arnold noticed the change in Helga's expression and eyed her with a curious stare. Suddenly, though, the events of that fateful trip began to come back to him: the time he had spent with Summer, the 'seemingly random' accidents that had happened to them both, Helga's attempts to show him Summer's true personality… '_Hmm, come to think of it, Helga __did__ spend pretty much the entire last half of the week we were there following me around and warning me about Summer. And if she really was responsible for all that stuff that happened to us at the beginning of the vacation, it's no wonder she didn't have any time to spend with her mom.' _Arnold smiled, surprised, now that he thought about it, by all of the effort Helga had put into helping him.

Suddenly, the voice of Mr. Huynh interrupted Arnold's thoughts. "So, Helga…you are helping Arnold with a school project?"

Helga pushed her plate away and reclined back in her seat a little. "Yeah, just for this weekend though, right, Football Head?"

Arnold blushed, sighing mentally. '_I knew she'd call me something like that in front of everyone sooner or later. Oh well, I just hope none of the Boarders pick up on it.'_

Oskar and Suzie glanced at each other, smirking. Mr. Potts tried to stifle a laugh. "Football Head? Heh, that's pretty good—I'll have to remember that one."

Grandpa cut in with a grin. "So, what exactly are you tutoring Footba—uh, Arnold in?" He tried to contain his own laughter at the unusual, though amusingly accurate, nickname.

Helga considered making something up for a moment; she just didn't like the idea of people knowing about her skill at poetry. Still, this wasn't her class or anything—it was Arnold's family. '_Heck, they'll probably forget about it the second they leave the table.'_

Arnold, sensing Helga's hesitation, was about to give a generic answer of 'English.' However, Helga stopped him before he could say anything. "Well, 'Shortman' here," she jerked her thumb in Arnold's direction, "is having a little trouble with poetry, so I'm giving him a few pointers."

Mr. Huynh smiled. "Oh, my daughter Mai has been studying poetry in college. She says it is a very interesting subject!"

Without thinking, Helga immediately asked, "How _is_ your daughter doing, Mr. Huynh?"

Mr. Huynh's smile widened at the question. "Oh, she is wonderful!" He then gave Helga a curious look. "Have you ever met her? I don't remember seeing you around here too often—"

Helga's eyes widened as she realized her mistake. '_Oh, stupid, __stupid__! You're not supposed to know about his daughter—Heck, Helga, you're probably not even supposed to know his last name! Okay, there's gotta be a way out of this one! Quick: THINK!'_

Helga glanced around nervously and swallowed hard but, luckily, she was saved from having to explain herself by a sudden exclamation from Arnold's Grandma. "And now it's time for the Floor Show troops!" She stood up on her chair and broke into song, causing Abner to bolt into the dining room and start running around her chair. "OH CHARLESTON, CHARLESTON, MADE IN CAR-O-LI-NA! SOME DANCE, SOME PRANCE—"

Grandpa cut her off with an exasperated sigh. "_Enough_ Pookie! Sit down before the neighbor's start complaining about the noise again!"

Grandma sat down but continued to hum the tune as she held Abner who had now settled happily in her lap.

Grandpa turned back to Helga and Arnold. "So, Helga, you're good at poetry, huh?" His grin became slyer and he turned back to his wife for a moment. "Remember, Pookie, how you were so good at drawing when we were growing up? I've still got most of those pictures you drew of me." He chuckled to himself. "She tried to teach me how to do it once but I was so horrible at art that I never quite got the hang of it. You always were the talented one, Pookie."

Grandma grabbed one of his hands. "Aw, soldier, you might have been lousy with a pencil or a paint brush but you've always known just what to say to put a smile on this old platoon leader's face."

Arnold had been listening with interest to his Grandparent's conversation. He had always liked stories about his Grandparents' childhood, and this fact about his Grandma being an artist was news to him. "Wow, Grandma, I didn't know you used to draw pictures of Grandpa?"

Grandpa cleared his throat and then turned back to his Grandson. "Hmm, oh, yes, Shortman! Didn't I tell you that story…I know I told you something about the way she was always following me around when we were kids…" Suddenly, though, a loud and sick-sounding grumble interrupted the conversation. Grandpa clutched his stomach and the smile on his face changed to a look of worry. "Ooo, I knew I shouldn't have had that third piece of cobbler!" He shot up out of his chair, and, still clutching his stomach, ran out of the room yelling back to Arnold, "I'll tell ya later, Shortman—nature's calling! Remember, NEVER eat raspberries!"

* * *

A few minutes later, the two fourth graders were back up in Arnold's room, now thoroughly stuffed from the southern meal they had eaten.

Helga Pataki threw herself on Arnold's couch and began to pick her teeth with a toothpick. "Wow, Arnold," she smirked, "I've never seen anyone run for a bathroom so fast."

Arnold blushed slightly. "Yeah…my Grandpa's really not supposed to have raspberries but he always seems to forget until 'after' dessert."

Both kids laughed a little at this fact, and, feeling much less self-conscious, Arnold sat himself on his bed.

"So, where were we?" Arnold said this almost automatically, but then worried about the safety of this question as he remembered the somewhat awkward situation they actually had left off on before lunch.

'_Who knows, though? She seems to be in a good mood now—maybe she'll actually start opening up to me a bit.'_

However, rather than gush about her 'feelings' as Arnold would have liked, Helga was silent for a moment. Then she turned to look at him, a strange smile on her face. "I think we were talking about inspiration…"

Arnold's eyes widened. '_Wow, she's actually going to start telling me about—"_

However, his hopes were dashed by the next thing that came out of the blonde girl's mouth. "Arnold, you have an entire table of some of the most interesting people anywhere right below you, and you've known them all your life and for a good chunk of theirs."

Arnold just stared at her blankly, clueless as to where she was going with this. "Well, I guess so but—"

She cut him off with a commanding voice. "Pick one of them and describe them to me in a _poem_! GO!"

"Uh…" Arnold wasn't sure where to begin. He wasn't even sure who he should pick, actually, but he had obeyed Helga's take-charge tone of voice too many times before in his life to ignore it now. "Well, I…um…" he cleared his throat, hoping to stall for more time, then finally gave it his best shot: "My Grandpa is old and wise and smart, He's funny and tells great stories, I just wish he wouldn't eat raspberries…"

"EHHH!" Helga made a loud sound like a buzzer signaling someone giving a wrong answer to a game show question. She sat up on Arnold's couch, yawned, and stretched her arms behind her head.

Arnold stood up, looking at her with a slightly annoyed expression. He narrowed his eyes a bit and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What was that for? I thought I was doing pretty well considering that I was just making it all up!"

Helga smirked. "One:" Helga held her index finger out in front of her, "There was absolutely no emotion in that thing at all—I mean you only got through three lines of it and I was already falling asleep!" Helga put up her middle finger to accompany her index one. "Two: people who are 'old' and 'wise' and 'tell stories' are a dime a dozen—why don't you try describing some of the traits that make your Grandpa a unique and important individual to you? You know, things that aren't PAINFULLY obvious to everyone else!" Helga raised her ring finger to accompany the other two still in the air. "And Three: think before you write Football Head because I defy you to come up with an easy rhyme for the word 'stories'!"

Arnold thought for a moment about what word might rhyme with 'stories', then blushed as he realized that almost nothing came to mind. '_Glories…maybe, but it's a little strong…Tories…well, it's a word but what does that have to do with Grandpa…'_

"Oh." Arnold sat back down on his bed looking a little crestfallen. He sighed and rested his chin on his hand. "Helga, I just don't think I'm any good at this…"

Helga stood up, smiling, and walked over to Arnold's bed where she sat down next to him. "Aw, come on Arnoldo, don't give up on me that easily! Heck, you're the one who's supposed to be the optimist here! And if you keep up this attitude, I might actually _have_ to call Olga for help like Simmons said, and _no one_ wants that—trust me." She ribbed him jokingly and Arnold couldn't help but crack a smile.

Helga grinned but resumed her commanding tone of voice. "Okay, now let's try this again: pick someone else who was at the table and tell me something about them that I wouldn't pick up just from meeting them today. Something you could only find out from having a deep personal relationship with them. GO!"

Arnold cleared his throat, ready to try again. "Ok…" He considered for a few moments before picking his next subject. "He doesn't seem to want to help others, He seems to care only about himself, Still few people give him a chance to prove, That he thinks his wife is his greatest wealth."

With a hopeful look on his face Arnold turned back to Helga for approval. "What about that? Was that okay?"

Helga closed her eyes and put her arms behind her head, lying back on his bed. "Hmm…which one of them was that about?"

"Mr. Kokoschka; you see, he always acts a bit selfish and lazy, especially to his wife, Suzie, but I know that deep down he really loves her. He might not always show it but there are times when you can see just how much he really cares." Arnold paused for a moment and then asked again, "So, was it alright?"

Helga turned to him with an approving smile on her face. "Well, I don't know if it'll win any awards but it honestly wasn't half bad, Head-Boy. That's what _Mr. Simmons_ wants, and that's what _I'm_ looking for; there was something in it below the surface of who Mr. Kokoschka is—something deeper that most people might overlook."

Arnold's expression turned from one of insecurity to one of happiness and, forgetting his new policy not to touch Helga unless it was absolutely necessary, he hugged her in gratitude. "Thanks, Helga."

Arnold looked at Helga's face out of the corner of his eye as he continued to embrace her. Suddenly, he raised an eyebrow as he noticed that Helga was smiling in an odd way with her eyes half open as though she was lost in daydream or something. He felt his face flush and his throat dry up—for a moment he didn't know what to do and just sat there with his arms still wrapped around her. '_What's wrong with her? Should I do something to snap her out of it? She seems so 'happy'…'_

A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped from Helga's lips but it was enough to shock Arnold out of his trance of bewilderment. He separated from her and cleared his throat. "Um, Helga?"

Instantly, she shook her head as though clearing it and resumed her normal facial expression. "Huh…oh, um…" Helga blushed and turned away, rubbing the back of her neck with her right arm. "S-so…so what are you waiting for, Football Head? Pick another person and do it again. Sheesh, do I have to tell you _everything_?! Now, GO!"

She was back to normal and Arnold breathed a sigh of relief. Still curious about what had caused such a change to come over her in the first place, though, he suddenly realized that he had just come in about as much contact with her as possible by hugging her. He felt himself blush hotly. '_I really need to remember to not touch her. Besides, she's already opening up to me a little bit more… I don't want to do anything to make her feel uncomfortable again,' _he swallowed nervously, '_or me.'_

* * *

For the next hour or so Arnold and Helga continued composing poems in this fashion, Arnold recording them in his notebook as they went. And, slowly, Arnold began to understand what Helga had been trying to teach him ever since she'd first come over. Sometimes he slipped back into his old habits but, as they progressed through each boarder, he improved his poetic skill more and more.

"Torn apart by war and battle, He did what he could to her save her life, And after years of waiting and hoping and praying, He finally got to see her on a Christmas Night…"

Helga was reclining on Arnold's couch again, now making paper airplanes out of some of the pages of her own notebook. She stopped in the middle of making one and looked at Arnold with yet another approving smile. "Wow, Arnold-o, I'm impressed. You're definitely getting the hang of it. And that one was about…"

Arnold blushed at Helga's compliment. "Mr. Huynh; he got separated from his daughter during the Vietnam war a really long time ago and it wasn't until just last Christmas that somehow he found her again—"

"Yeah, yeah," said Helga quickly, cutting him off before he could begin to ponder just how 'mysterious' the return of Mr. Huynh's daughter actually was (or recall how Helga had strangely known his daughter's name at lunch earlier). "Anyway, Arnold, the point is that that one was your best yet! Heck, you could probably hand that one into Simmons on Monday and pass with flying colors—I almost think we don't even need to meet tomorrow."

Arnold was smiling contentedly, proud that Helga was so pleased with him. However, her last words began to make him worry: he had been so distracted by his recent success that he had almost forgotten entirely about his goal to talk to Helga about her poem. Now, however, it was starting to weigh on his mind again and he knew that he was running short on time to bring up the topic. '_It's already 2 o'clock, and if we don't meet tomorrow then this is my last chance. I've got to find a way to bring the conversation back to it. Hmm…' _Suddenly, an interesting idea occurred to Arnold—one he probably wouldn't have dared to try before Helga's helpful lesson but that he now felt he had enough confidence to attempt considering his recent jump in poetic skill. He wrote down his Mr. Huynh poem quickly and then laid the notebook aside.

"Okay, Arnold. Is there anyone else we haven't tried yet?" Helga mistook Arnold's few moments of deep thought to mean that he was stalling again, and wanted to keep him going on the roll he had already established.

Arnold eyed Helga warily and moved to sit on the couch next to her, which caused her to sit up and make room for him. "So, it can be anyone that was at the table downstairs during lunch, right?"

Helga raised an eyebrow, not liking the look in his eye, "Uh, yeah Arnold…any of those 'unique' people we ate with an hour ago."

"Okay then…let's see…" Arnold could feel his heart pounding and he began to play with his hands. He swallowed hard, and opened his mouth…

"There's a girl I half know who sat near me today, Though she made me beg to get her there, She's always so stubborn about her reputation, but for once she almost didn't seem to care…"

Arnold had to marvel at the sudden change that Helga G. Pataki underwent as he said these few words. She hadn't seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary with the first line; by the second line her eyes had gone very wide and her mouth was slightly agape; and somewhere between lines three and four she jumped up and flew at Arnold with a mixture of hurt and rage on her face.

"HEY, WHO SAID YOU COULD WRITE ANYTHING ABOUT ME?!" She had him pinned against the couch, towering over him as though he'd just struck the biggest nerve possible.

Arnold turned his face slightly away from hers and tried to remain calm. "Well…you did, Helga…"

She pushed him against the couch harder and growled through gritted teeth. "I swear Arnold, I'm gonna—"

Arnold swallowed hard, and said in a slightly more confident voice, "You said it could be about anyone at the table, Helga, and you were at the table."

Helga was silent for a moment but then reluctantly released Arnold from her grip. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she turned from him and seated herself as distant as possible from him on the far end of his bed.

Arnold rubbed one of the shoulder's Helga had had him pinned by and waited for her to say something. '_Maybe I really am going too far with all of this…I should probably just give her some space. Still, if she's just going to act like nothing's happened…' _Arnold sighed mentally, knowing that he would have to do whatever possible to keep her from running away from the situation. 'I_ just can't let her get out of this.'_

Meanwhile, Helga's thoughts were running a mile a minute, and so were her emotions. '_That little twerp, who does he think he is?!…Oh, my little love god, you actually wrote a poem for __me__!...First he reads my poem without asking, then he starts using my weaknesses against me, and now what does he think he's up to?!...I actually inspired Arnold—I think I'm gonna die!...I hate him!...I love him!...Oh, Crimeny I really __am__ a BASKET CASE!!!'_

Aware that Arnold was waiting for a response from her, Helga merely scowled at him but said in a much calmer voice, "Fine."

Arnold, taking her reply to be a good sign, was about to respond. However, he stopped when he noticed a sly, almost malicious grin come to Helga's face. Her scowl disappeared and now her voice became distinctly pleasant. "You know, there was someone else at the table too, Arnold…" Helga cleared her throat and Arnold had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "A certain Football Head learned something from me today, Now he's a bard whom people can actually stand, But if he thinks a few well placed words are gonna get to me, He better watch it—," Helga clenched one of her fists, "because he's living in dreamland!"

Helga leaned back, a satisfied smirk on her lips. Arnold was speechless for a moment, then he raised an eyebrow and a small half smile came to his face. He stood and sat himself on the end of his bed opposite from Helga. "I might be dreaming, But you have to confess, I think you're worried that when it comes to poetry, You might not be the best."

Helga raised an eyebrow and her grin became even more cunning. "Arnold, you're dealing with a veteran of words, I've composed more lines than you've ever read, Don't think you can surpass your 'teacher' so easily, Or I might have to pound your face in, Football Head!"

Arnold wasn't about to take things slowly this time around. Rather than casually inching his way toward Helga, he got up, walked briskly across the length of his bed, and placed himself directly in front of her. He used her few seconds of surprised shock at his sudden approach to start right in on his next rhyming message. "If you're so great at writing and have made so many things, Why keep it from everyone and continue to hide, I don't think you realize that you should be proud of your talents, Just like you tried to be on the roof of FT—"

"BYE!"

"Huh…wait, HEGLA!!!" Helga had been sitting completely still listening to this most recent poetic composition of Arnold's. Yet, the moment the letter 'F' in FTi had left Arnold's lips her look of surprise had changed to one of panic and fear. Instantly, she'd bolted out so fast from under his gaze and toward his doorway that he hadn't been able to stop her.

Helga looked furious and she was mumbling something under her breath that sounded like, "No way! No stinkin' way! I'm outta here!" as she stormed across the room.

Arnold instantly ran after her and managed to grab her arm away from the handle of his door before she could reach it. "Helga, stop!"

In the back of his mind Arnold had been hoping that he would be able to subdue her again by coming in contact with her. However, Helga's fury was currently outweighing her love and she instantly pulled away from him, not about to be taken in by him again that day. "Who said you could touch me, Football Head?!" '_There's no way I'm gonna let him start thinking that all he ever has to do to win against me is grab me!' _"Now move, I'm outta here!"

Arnold wasn't sure why she was so upset but he knew, somehow, that he had made a mistake. '_I've got to make her stay, or at least come back tomorrow.' _"Helga, I'm sorry. Please don't go!"

She only scowled darkly at him and shouted back, "I didn't agree to help you so you could play games with me Arnoldo! You needed tutoring and I tutored you; that was the deal and now we're done! Oh and," Helga punched her right fist into her left palm, "if you tell ANYONE about our little 'poetry session' I'll deflate that Football Head of yours PERMANENTLY!"

Not thinking about what he was saying, Arnold rolled his eyes and quietly mumbled under his breath, "Yeah, right…"

Helga glared evilly at him. "What was that?!"

Arnold gave her his most innocent look. "I said…um…" Suddenly, an idea came to him and he turned his eyes downward in a defeated and almost sad appearance. "I said fine, Helga..." He then walked away from the door, making sure to keep his back to his angry friend.

Helga was about to bolt from the room but she hesitated and looked back at Arnold, her anger cooling as the seconds passed until she finally mumbled in a much less threatening voice, "Look, just forget it…I…I'll see you on Monday." Helga turned the knob and opened the door slightly…however, she didn't leave just yet. She was waiting for some kind of response from Arnold who still hadn't turned back around to face her. Slowly, her expression changed from one of anger and annoyance to one of concern and worry. '_Oh, for Pete's sake, I just burst his little bubble of optimism, didn't I? He thought he could get through to me if only he 'did his best' and tried to 'talk it out'…Well, maybe I did overreact a little…I mean, I can't blame him for being a little confused about, well, __everything__. Oh Arnold; just look at me, try and stop me, yell at me—do SOMETHING to show me that you still care about me!"_

Helga cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand, glancing back and forth from Arnold to the floor. "Um…unless…unless you wanted to meet tomorrow too…" she stammered. Then she quickly added in the best bully voice she could summon under the circumstances, "If there's an opening in my schedule, I mean…"

Arnold smiled to himself, happy that his plan had worked and that Helga had responded so well to his 'disappointment'. He turned to look at Helga with a hopeful smile on his face. "I'd like that Helga—and I really am sor—"

Helga cut him off, not wanting to reminisce on what had just happened between them. "Yeah, yeah, so, same time, same place?"

"Sure Helga." Arnold approached her again to see her out of his room.

Helga stepped onto the attic ladder and descended the first few steps. However, before disappearing entirely down into the hallway she addressed Arnold one last time. "But no funny stuff." Her eyes narrowed and she pointed her index finger up at his face.

"She told me no funny stuff, And I couldn't help smile, Because I should probably be the one saying that to her…"

"Don't push it Arnold, and I'll see you in a while."

Helga smirked as she finished his poem for him, then finished descending the steps and made her way downstairs to exit the Boarding House. As Arnold watched her go, he couldn't help but chuckle at the ending line she had made up for his last poem of the day. And, as Helga G. Pataki disappeared around the corner in the hallway below he could only think to himself, '_At least I've got tomorrow to clear things up once and for all…I just hope nothing else happens_…'

* * *

**A/N:**

Whew! Okay, Saturday is officially over! Arnold only has one day left to confront Helga, and Helga only has one day left to open up to Arnold despite her fears and show him her true self! Interesting things are going to be happening in the next two chapters (I already have a lot of it planned out, it's just a matter of actually writing it), so please stay tuned. Again guys, I can't tell you how much your reviews are appreciated—you're a wonderful audience! So keep it up and let me know what you think so far :) Thanks a bunch!

The poetry slam idea was courtesy of a conversation I had with DV!

AXH 4EVER!!!

-Azure129


	5. WhyDoesAllTheGoodStuffHappenOnRooftops?

_Reposted with grammar edits 1/3/2010._

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**A/N: **

Alright guys, you wanted it, you asked for it, heck some of you threatened to hurt yourselves if you didn't get it soon (lol, the HA! Fandom is truly an awesome group of people!) Well, here it is: The latest installment of "Tutoring Arnold"! Now, before you guys get started I just want to clarify a few points so please read below before you begin the story! Thanx :)

1—Yes, yes, I know this has taken me much longer than I said it would to post this! I don't wanna bore you guys with a bunch of excuses (reading the 7th Harry Potter book, packing for college, working full time, almost losing all of my HA! eps in a really random accident involving my external hard drive, but I digress), but there is good news—as you can probably see there are TWO NEW CHAPTERS TO READ! Now, I know I said I was going to do the entire day of Sunday in only two installments just like with Saturday, but when I finished writing the first Sunday chapter it was RIDICULOUSLY LONG (let me put it this way—the word document I have that has the entire first four chapters of the story in it was a total of 40 pages long; I wrote the first Sunday chapter and that total went to 100). So, Sunday's going to have three parts, but for now here's the first two!

2—Okay guys, this one's gonna be an emotional roller coaster so make sure to get some snacks, maybe keep some Kleenex handy, oh and try to have a basic working knowledge of how to perform the Heimlich maneuver on yourself just in case you choke while you're laughing (I don't usually build up my own work, but guys…with some of this stuff in this I think pushed the definition of 'awkward' to the limit giggles Let me put it this way—I thought the last chapter had some pretty funny parts, but what happens in these next two chapters blows all of that stuff completely out of the water).

3—Credit to DeepVoice (DV: Hey, how are things going? I'm so excited—now that I'm done with this I'll finally be able to read the next part of Cafeteria Confessions—YAY!) for giving me some suggestions for things that Arnold and Helga could experience or be doing that have actual symbolic meaning during their dream sequences (I don't really consider this a spoiler, since the dream sequences start off this chapter). :)

4—**Slight Spoiler**: Uh…try not to get too angry at the actions of some of the characters in the following two chapters (especially Gerald)—they all mean well…their just a bit 'misguided.' Trust me, they'll find a way to 'see the error of their way' in future chapters ;)

Okay, that does it! ENJOY :)

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 5:**

**Why Does All the Good Stuff Happen On Rooftops?**

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"Wow, man, can you believe it's already time for the Cheese Festival again?"

"Huh." Arnold shook his head in momentary confusion, then began to take in the familiar carnival atmosphere in which he and his best friend Gerald Johansson seemed to be standing. "Oh, uh, yeah…it seems like it was just last year that we celebrated the annual festival of the holy provolone."

Arnold put his hand to his temple, getting a strange sense of déjà vous. '_Weird…didn't I say that once…but isn't that time now? Why am I so confused…Hmm, I guess I had a few too many cheese-on-a-sticks.'_

Suddenly, Gerald nudged Arnold with his elbow and pointed into the crowd, which, Arnold suddenly noticed, was surrounding them. "Hey, man," he whispered, "there she is—now's your chance!"

Arnold looked over to where Gerald was pointing and, after a moment, saw the person he was indicating. "Gerald, what are you talking about? The only person over there is Ruth McDougal."

Gerald rolled his eyes and gave his best friend an exasperated sigh. "Duh, man! Look, I know you're nervous but just ask her already! What's the worst that could happen?" Gerald smiled and patted Arnold on the shoulder.

Arnold raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Gerald, I really don't know what you're talking about. Why would I ask Ruth McDougal anything? I haven't even thought about her in months."

Gerald crossed his arms in front of his chest and sarcastically replied, "Oh, yeah, that's why you've been going on and on about coming here with her ever since they put up the Cheese Festival posters two weeks ago. Now, quit stalling and just ask her if she wants to go on a ride or something!"

He gave Arnold a push forward, causing him to move a few paces closer to Ruth who continued to stand alone near a picnic table casually munching on a piece of fondue. Arnold's head was starting to ache from the strange behavior of his friend and the randomness of the situation. '_I don't get it—I haven't liked Ruth McDougal for at least two Cheese Festivals…and that was almost a year ago…' _But, somehow, the situation he was in now and the situation back then were starting to seem eerily familiar. '_Or is it now? Do I still like Ruth…but wait a minute, that can't be right…I thought I did until I realized what kind of person she really is…_' His swallowed hard as he recalled the disappointment of his first crush, then gave an exasperated sigh. '_What's going on here?!'_

Arnold continued walking toward Ruth, still not sure whether or not he was actually going to speak to her or even exactly what was going on. Suddenly, he missed a step and fell onto the hard dirt of the ground face first.

"Ow!" He pulled himself up and dusted off his sweater.

"Watch where you're going Arnold-o! Heh, heh, heh!" Helga Pataki was standing with her foot stuck out, cackling at having succeeded in tripping Arnold.

Arnold's eyes took on an angry glare. "Hey, what did you do that for?!"

Helga gave him a malicious smile. "It's a penalty for Strike One, Football Head!" She winked and then ran away, leaving Arnold even more confused than before.

After a moment, Arnold merely shrugged off her cryptic message and tried to find Ruth among the crowd again to see if the sight of her still caused butterflies to explode in his stomach. Suddenly, though, the crowd around them began to thicken and eventually blend into indistinguishable segments of color and light. Arnold closed his eyes and rubbed his temple harder—the noises around him were blending now too and making his headache even worse. A bright light appeared and Arnold closed his eyes to block it out.

"Arnold? Arnold?! Are you ever so certain you're okay?"

Arnold rubbed his eyes, and then finally opened them. As the spots clouding his vision disappeared he slowly realized that he was outside on a sunny, cloudless, spring day.

"Arnold, are you feeling okay?"

He turned and noticed that he was sitting on a park bench with Lila, who was giving him a very concerned look as she placed the back of her hand against his forehead to check his temperature.

He pushed her hand away and said in a shaky voice, "Yeah, Lila…I…I'm fine. Um…what were we talking about?"

Lila continued to study him with a worried expression, but seemed momentarily satisfied with his answer and replied, "You were telling me that you 'like-me like-me' now, Arnold. But, as I was just saying, unfortunately I don't feel the same way about you anymore. You're not too upset, are you?"

Arnold rested his forehead against one of his palms and tried to think straight again. '_Okay, now I __know__ that this already happened…right? I mean, it happened recently but there's no way it's happening right now. But I'm here…hmm; maybe I just had a few flashbacks because Lila's answer shocked me, or something. I am shocked, right?'_ Arnold thought for a moment, trying to recall that feeling of hurt, embarrassment, and genuine sadness that had come over him when Lila had dumped him…Strangely, though, he couldn't seem to muster it…at least, not in as intense a form as it had been that day. There was a memory of being hurt, of course, and a degree of disappointment, but nothing that seemed to bother him all that much. In fact, he was kind of glad that by turning him down she would be leaving soon. He wanted to be alone so that he could finally figure out what was going on.

"No Lila, I'll be fine. Well…I guess I'll be seeing you."

He stood and gave her a brief wave and a polite smile. She got up and gave him a sincere look. "I do hope ever so much that we can still be friends, Arnold."

"Sure, Lila." He watched her walk away toward the park exit.

Suddenly, the large tree that had been sheltering the bench on which Arnold and Lila had been sitting toppled down. After a few minutes of confusion Arnold found himself covered in leaves and small branches, having just escaped being engulfed by the entire top of the tree. Arnold moved some leaves away from his eyes and searched to see what had caused to tree to collapse. His gaze finally rested on a slightly embarrassed looking Helga G. Pataki, who was sitting on the half of the bench that remained in tact, whistling sheepishly.

She looked up and noticed that he was staring at her. "Oh, uh, sorry, Arnold, I guess I got a little carried away with Strike 2 there, heh, heh. You're okay aren't you?" Her eyes seemed truly concerned, and she began to approach him cautiously as though unsure of whether he would want her near him.

Arnold removed the last few twigs from his hair. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine." Helga's look of worry was replaced by a relieved smile. Arnold reciprocated with a small grin, but then turned away for a moment to pick his way through a few scattered branches until he was completely clear of the tree. Meanwhile, he continued to speak to her. "Um, could you tell me what's going on here. I'm a little confused?"

There was no response and Arnold noticed that the scenery around him appeared to have darkened. He turned around to find his dream stalker again. "Helga?" However, he was now in a completely black landscape, alone. Rather than be surprised, though, Arnold merely sighed and sat on the equally dark 'floor' beneath his feet, by now more than used to these sudden shifts in environment.

"Why am I here…and where's Helga?"

"Two excellent questions, Football Head!"

Arnold jerked around, surprised by the presence of another voice. However, he couldn't locate its source, though he recognized the tone well enough. "Helga? Where are you?" He stood and began to search around though everywhere appeared to be the same blank black color.

In a singsong voice, Helga replied, "I'm everywhere and I'm nowhere, but mostly I'm everywhere."

Arnold rolled his eyes, recognizing the same response Helga (in her Deep Voice disguise) had given him to a similar question only hours before her confession. Normally, Arnold would have been patient with Helga's attitude, but he had already been dragged through two of the most uncomfortable memories of his life (made all the more difficult by Helga's antics throughout them), and he wasn't in the mood to get sarcastic comments when all he wanted were answers.

He narrowed his eyes. "Very funny 'Deep Voice', now will you tell me where I am?"

"Heck if I know—it's your dream, Head Boy."

Arnold blinked, finding this new idea very interesting and feeling surprised that it hadn't occurred to him before. "Wait, this is a dream?"

"No, Football Head—you're just being whisked through time and space due to a science experiment gone horribly wrong, which makes perfect sense especially since it's the weekend and we're not even in school! DOI, Arnoldo—of course this is a DREAM!!!"

Arnold crossed his arms in front of his chest and sat down, casting an angry glare at his empty surroundings around which Helga's voice echoed. "You know, you could just say 'yes'!"

"Aw, but what would be the fun in that!" Helga's voice chuckled.

Arnold rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. "Whatever you say, Helga."

"Hey, who said I was 'Helga'?"

The voice (which had all of a sudden turned distinctly pleasant) now sounded like it was coming from someone directly behind him rather than just echoing off the invisible walls of wherever Arnold was, and he stood up and turned around at the surprising question only to meet with a very strange sight. "Oh!"

Ruth McDougal stood before him, filing her nails with an emery board and tapping her foot on the ground in impatience. "Ugh, and who's 'Helga' anyway?"

Arnold blinked in surprise, still shocked by the sight of his first crush. '_But I could've sworn that was Helga's voice…it had to be…Well, maybe it wasn't, but…but Ruth is the one standing there…' _He mentally sighed in exasperation._ 'I just wish I could wake up already.'_

Arnold continued to stare at the strange apparition, still too thrown to speak. Ruth finished filing her right hand, and then turned her attention back to the Football-Headed fourth grader in front of her. "Hell-o! I said 'who is this Helga person' cuz I'm definitely not her!"

"Oh, sorry, it's just that you sounded so much like her before…I could've sworn…" Arnold closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. "Anyway…um…how are you, Ruth?"

"Arnold, who's Ruth?"

Arnold opened his eyes again, only to see a smiling Lila standing before him. "Lila?! Wait a minute…I'm confused—it's been you this whole time?"

Lila's eyes took on a questioning look and she frowned at Arnold. "I'm ever so certain I don't know what you mean, Arnold. I've only just gotten here and I don't believe I've seen anyone else besides the two of us."

Arnold took a deep breath and sat back down again, trying to clear his thoughts. '_Maybe I'm just confused…I mean, they both have red hair—maybe I just thought I saw Ruth even though it was really Lila. Or, this is just all in my head—Helga did say that I was dreaming…but was that Helga's voice; or Ruth's; or Lila's?…I can't remember!'_

Arnold sighed, deciding that it would be best to play along until he either got some answers or woke up. "Okay, Lila, so…uh, can you help me get out of here?"

Lila looked a little taken aback. "You don't want to spend time with me, Arnold?"

Arnold cleared his throat, feeling a little uncomfortable about the question "Um…it's not that…I'd just like to go home. That's all."

Lila sighed and turned her gaze downward. "Oh." There was a momentary awkward silence, then she perked up suddenly and added, "It's probably better like this anyway, since I don't 'like-you like-you', I mean."

Arnold raised an eyebrow. "Uh…yeah, I guess…"

"And I hope ever so much that you're still okay with that Arnold, since you 'like-me like-me' and everything."

"Uh, sure, Lila." Arnold walked away from her, his eyes scanning their surroundings for some kind of landmark or exit.

Lila continued speaking, though. "You do still 'like-me like-me', right Arnold?"

Arnold rolled his eyes but managed to keep his voice level (having Lila's help to get out of this dream was better than no help at all). "Uh…could we talk about this later, Lila? Like when we get out of here?" There was no answer, but Arnold was too distracted with searching for a way out (and with his own thoughts) to notice. '_Hmm…come to think of it, I guess I don't really know how I feel about Lila anymore…I mean, I guess I still 'like-her like-her, but it hasn't really crossed my mind in a while. Between all the times she's turned me down since I first told her, and then the FTi scandal, and Helga…Helga…where is Helga? I know she was here! No one else calls me—'_

"Football Head, haven't you figured it out yet?!"

"I KNEW IT!" Arnold whipped around, certain this time that he would see the genuine Helga G. Pataki standing undeniably beside him. However, his eyes fell on a very strange sight that confirmed for him once and for all that he was indeed dreaming.

Lila continued beam at him, but her usual red braids had been replaced by stiff blond pigtails, and her neat dress was still the same style, only now a familiar shade of bubble gum pink instead of its usual Kelly green.

"Take a picture; I'm ever so certain it'll last longer!"

Arnold blinked, feeling woozy. Suddenly, the strange figure before him grew in height and the blond hair became shorter and pulled back by some barrettes. "Like, what are you staring at, Arnoldo?"

Arnold clenched his hands against his stomach, and staggered back. "Wait…what…I…"

Instantly, the stiff pigtails returned but took on a reddish tinge, and the girl's outfit reformed into Ruth's sweater and mini skirt, both colored a similar shade of Kelly green. Her body shortened and Helga Pataki's famous scowl appeared on her face. "Gosh, Arnold-o, you look totally sick!"

And truly, Arnold did look as though he were about to pass out by this point; between being jerked around from place to place, lost in this strange dark limbo, and now forced to watch the only three girls he had ever loved about morph into some kind of conglomeration of each other, he was completely pale and his headache was causing him to wince with each throb of pain (which were only getting worse as the figure before him continued to alter its appearance).

'_Wait a minute—what am I saying, 'the only three girls I've ever loved'? I had crushes on Ruth and Lila, but isn't one of the people in there Helga too? I mean, I care about Helga…and I want to help her…and I'm honestly more worried about her than those other two, but I don't…Hey, where is she, anyway? I know she was here…'_

"Helga…stop it…Helga…" he managed to sputter before kneeling on the floor in confusion and pain.

"Is that really what you want?"

Arnold looked up. The girl had gone through another transformation and was now sporting blond braids, a powder blue Helga Pataki jumper (the same color as Ruth's sweater), and Ruth's face. However, her metamorphosis seemed to have stopped now and she waited for an answer to her question, though Arnold couldn't detect from her inflection what she hoped that answer would be. He rubbed his temples and said the first thing that came to mind. "Yes, I'd like to talk to Helga."

Suddenly, someone tapped him on his shoulder and he turned around with a start. "HELGA!" Arnold was so surprised and happy to finally see her that he grabbed her in an embrace and smiled, forgetting entirely about the confusing pain in his head…and to his great interest, she didn't seem to be pushing him away…

"I knew it was you, Helga! I knew that that couldn't have been Lila or Ruth before—oh Helga, it's so great to see you! I know you'll be able to get me out of here! Helga?" Arnold's eyes were shut and he was smiling wide, "Helga, did you hear me? Hey, Helga…"

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"HEY ARNOLD! HEY ARNOLD! HEY ARNOLD!"

"HUH?!"

Arnold sat bolt upright in his bed, his arms still tightly locked around one of his powder blue pillows. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were open wide in shock. With a swift movement of one of his hands he disconnected his potato alarm clock, his eyes still staring straight ahead. Finally, he took a deep breath and brought his palm upward to rest his forehead upon it.

"Whoa…what a weird dream: the cheese festival and the park and Lila and Ruth and…" he felt a small smile come to his lips. "Helga…" His other hand involuntarily gripped the pillow harder until his gaze fell upon the soft mass clutched so very tightly against his chest. "AHHH!" With a start, he flung the pillow away with such a spasm that he toppled out of his bed, landing on his floor in a tangle of blankets.

Arnold stood, trying to regain his composure even though no one else was around to notice his little 'accident'. He gave a fake cough into one of his hands and his cheeks reddened with a nervous blush. Trying to avoid the strange feeling that had just come over him at the thought of Helga, he voiced the only other question that had come to his mind upon waking up. "Uh…I…I wonder what time it is?"

He pushed aside the covers that had fallen from his bed and pulled his alarm clock down from a nearby shelf. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he gasped at the time. "11:30! How could I have slept in two hours late?! I still have to get dressed and walk Abner and collect the rent all before Helga comes! I'd better hurry!"

Suddenly, Arnold heard his phone ring from across his room and raced over to answer it. "Hello?" he said in a slightly broken voice, still feeling a little sleepy.

"Hey, Football Head…this is Football Head, right?"

Arnold swallowed hard, fully recognizing who was on the other end of the line. In a cracked voice he exclaimed "Helga!" and then felt his cheeks go entirely red at the strange sound that had come out of his mouth. Clearing his throat, he tried again in a much more intentionally deep voice. "I mean," he said the next word as deeply as possible, "_Helga_…yeah it's me." Then suddenly in a panicky voice he added. "Wait, you can't be here, I'm…I'm not dressed yet!"

"Football Head, I'm not even—and we're on the pho—and why does it even—"

There was a momentary pause on the line during which it began to dawn on Arnold just how ridiculous and illogical his response had truly been. Suddenly, Helga spoke again in a hurried whisper as though she didn't want someone nearby to hear what she was saying. "Arnold…I'm going to assume that I just woke you up or something and let that one slide because, quite frankly, it's just too easy. Second, I just wanted to let you know (that is, if you're coherent enough to understand it) that I might be a little late. I woke up at practically the crack of dawn this morning to find Olga skipping through my house and barking out orders like I'm some kind slave to her inane desires for a perfect household. I'll try and shake her, though, so I shouldn't be more than a few minutes late. Is that okay with you, Head Boy?"

Arnold righted himself after tripping over the phone cord during her explanation and replied, "Um, okay…no problem. I still have some things to do anyway…"

"Catch ya later, Football Head!"

Arnold said the first thing that popped into his mind before he heard the receiver on Helga's end click off. "I'll be counting the minutes!"

As Helga's voice was replaced by dial tone, Arnold collapsed into his couch with a defeated sigh. " 'I'll be counting the minutes'? Why did I have to say 'that'? I must have sounded completely ridiculous to her…She'll never let me live this down! I must be nervous because of that dream…er, nightmare…er, whatever that was I had—yeah, that's it. I'll feel better after some breakfast and once I get my chores out of the way."

With that, Arnold left behind the embarrassment of his conversation with Helga and made his almost completely destroyed bed as quickly as he could, realizing that, even if Helga was late, it would still be hard for him to get done everything he had to if he didn't hurry. In a flash, he then threw off his pajamas and put on his usual clothes.

He stopped before opening his door. "Okay, I guess I'll get the rent from the boarders first—they've all probably eaten breakfast by now, and they're usually in better moods after a good meal." Arnold could only hope that his Grandmother's 'southern' streak had continued through to this morning, and that the boarders had consumed a hearty meal of grits and sausages and fried eggs, rather than their usual fair of mystery 'cream-o-something' and scrapple (A/N: Fun Fact: Scrapple is basically all the parts of the animals that they can't put into hot dogs, in a patty-like form!) With a sigh, he opened his door and prepared to begin, hoping in the back of his mind that Helga would forget their awkward phone conversation by the time she arrived at his house.

* * *

While Arnold had been tossing and turning into the early hours of the afternoon due to the strange visions of morphing girls that had filled his head, Helga Pataki was being haunted by some very disturbing dreams herself.

Helga watched a younger version of herself sitting in a small plastic chair, eyeing a certain young Football Headed boy she'd met only a few hours ago from across the room. '_I wish he'd look at me again,' _sleeping Helga heard her younger self think as she adjusted her bow with her hand and sighed. Sleeping Helga smiled as she watched this dream of a memory like an observer watching a play. '_I love this dream…maybe instead of waiting for him to notice me I'll try to get myself to go over and see if I can get a kiss in before I wake up?'_

She was tempted to deviate from the usual pattern of her dream about the first time she'd ever met Arnold when, strangely, the scenery changed. Though she was still watching a scene in the preschool classroom, it was a very different memory she was reliving; one of the most significant in her life, as a matter of fact. Young Helga was sitting in the small plastic chair again but Sleeping Helga noticed many crudely cut, red construction paper hearts and doilies trimming the ceiling of the classroom. In front of each student were several pieces of blank white paper on which they were coloring valentines on for each other and for their loved ones.

Sleeping Helga knew this scene from her childhood very well and sighed deeply as she prepared for what was to come. '_Great, I couldn't have dreamed about the Valentine's Day when I actually got to go on a date with him (or at least when 'Cecile' got to go on a date with him); I have to dream about this one!'_

Rather than fight what would inevitably happen, Helga merely resigned herself to watching the circumstances of that sad day from almost seven years ago unfold in hopes that maybe, when it was finally over, she'd wake up (or at least get to move on to a more pleasurable Arnold moment.)

Young Helga gulped and looked down at the simple piece of paper in front of her on which she had drawn, using every color of crayon in her box of 36, a picture of herself holding hands with a familiar football headed figure. Surrounding the portrait was a big red heart, and below this image the first word Helga had ever managed to write on her own. Young Helga looked at it again, trying to make sure it was perfectly written as she recalled all the effort she had put into learning how to spell it…

* * *

Two days ago, Olga had come home with a Valentine card that had seemed to make her father angry. Surprised that her dad would actually be unhappy with something Olga had done, Young Helga had asked her sister what was so bad about the card.

Olga had sat down with her and explained the situation as best she could to a three year old. "Well, baby sister, Daddy's just being a big old silly! He's just a little upset because, well," Olga blushed, "it's from a boy and it says the word 'love' on the cover, that's all." Olga removed the card from her pocket and showed it to Young Helga, who looked at the big red heart with those white funny markings that apparently spelled the word 'love.'

"But Olga, why's it so bad if it says 'love'?"

Olga chuckled. "Oh, Helga, it's not that it's bad! Giving someone something that says you love them means that you care about them very much, and that you hope that they might feel the same way about _you_ someday." Olga then patted her younger sister on the shoulder and pranced up the stairs to her room, a satisfied and excited smile on her face.

Later that evening, while the rest of the family was eating dinner (which meant Big Bob chowing down on a frozen TV entree while watching 'The Wheel', Miriam making yet another smoothie, and Olga preparing a small gourmet meal for herself), Young Helga had silently climbed the stairs to the second floor of her house and snuck into her sister's dark room. She only had to look around for a few moments before seeing the card Olga had shown her only a few hours before perched proudly on her nightstand. For hours until she heard her sister's footsteps on the stairs, Young Helga had stared at the card and it's simple but apparently powerful message, mesmerized by thoughts of the one person she would like to give it to. In fact, the moment Olga had explained to her what it meant, she had decided that she would put it on a card for her beloved Arnold when they made valentines in class in a couple of days.

"Oh Arnold," she had whispered in the silence and privacy of her sister's room, "I love you…"

* * *

For the past 48 hours, Young Helga had been memorizing the funny lines that meant love and practicing making them over and over on any scrap of paper she could find. Finally, she had perfected writing the word and she only hoped, staring at it printed so neatly on the special valentine in front of her, that it would be good enough to help her make Arnold feel the same way.

Nervously, the three year old Helga carefully took the valentine in her hand, stood up, and made her way over to a very busy Arnold who was doing his best to make the card he was working on as special as possible. To her relief, the other students were so involved in their own projects that they didn't even seem to notice where she was heading.

"Nadine, don't you just LOVE this glitter! Mummy imported it special for me France! It's simply Di-Vine!" squeaked Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd to her best friend.

"Harold, NO!! You can't eat the macaroni, it's not even cooked!" yelled their teacher at Harold Berman, who was stuffing his mouth full of hard noodles and laughing as he stole more from the kids around him.

Eugene had accidentally pasted his hand to his head and was trying to get it free, to the great entertainment of the few students sitting around him. The teacher shook her head and, after a few vain attempts at separating these two parts of Eugene's body, finally had to take him from the room to visit the nurse.

"Arnold…"

The young Arnold stopped adding stickers to his card and turned his smiling face to the young blond girl who had addressed him, "Oh, hi Helga!"

Arnold's best friend Gerald Johanssen, who was sitting on the other side of him, noticed Young Helga's presence and gave her a suspicious look. She met his gaze with a glare and growled slightly, causing him to turn away from her. Arnold, however, seemed oblivious to this occurrence and simply continued smiling at Young Helga waiting for her to say something.

Suddenly, her eyes fell to the floor and her cheeks reddened slightly. She began grinding one of her feet into the carpet of the classroom and nervously playing with the card behind her back. Sleeping Helga gave a mental sigh of exasperation. '_Here we go: time to watch my first attempt at a confession go down in flames. I guess I'm just lucky that the brains of all the other idiots my class were too small to remember this fiasco.'_

"Um, Arnold I…I just wanted to…" Young Helga began to pull the Valentine from behind her back, her little hands now shaking violently. "I wanted to tell you…"

Suddenly, though, Young Helga felt the piece of paper bearing her confession ripped from her hands from behind. She turned around and saw Harold Berman holding the page high above his head and laughing. 'Oooo, is Helga gonna give a valentine to Aw-nold?! Helga and Aw-nold sitting in a tree—"

Before she could think, Young Helga's anger got the better of her. In an instant, her nervous look had changed to a deathly scowl and she was wrestling the portly toddler to the floor. She finally grabbed the valentine from his fist and instantly tore it to shreds to destroy the evidence of her love. "Hey, what did I tell you before?! Don't mess with me or it's Old Betsy and the Five Avengers for you pink boy!"

Though she had him pinned to the floor, Harold was still laughing and managed to choke out, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G; First comes LOOOOOOOOOVE!" Young Helga kicked him in the ribs, and he instantly stopped talking. However, all the other kids had heard his taunts and were now staring at Helga, laughing and giggling to themselves and pointing at her and Arnold. Young Helga's eyes widened and she turned to face Arnold again who was giving her a confused look—that same look he had given her the first day she had met him when Harold had accused her of caring about him. She couldn't stand that look and, before she knew it, she was doing the most awful, bully-like thing she could think of…all to protect her 'reputation.'

Returning her face to her familiar scowl, she stomped back over to the bewildered Arnold and grabbed the card he was working on off the table in front of him. In the meanest voice she could muster, she yelled, "I wanted to tell you that I think your card is stupid, and that you're a stupid Football Head!" She then tore it in half, let it drop on the floor and stormed away. Unbeknownst to her other classmates who had simply gone back to their own projects after the scene was over, hot tears filled her eyes as she made her way to a secluded corner of the classroom, too ashamed to look back and see the hurt expression that must be in her beloved' eyes. "He'll be my valentine one day, when I'm older like Olga…I just know it…" she whispered to no one but herself…

Sleeping Helga had been hoping to wake-up once this painful scene was over and, for a moment, she thought she was coming out of her dream as the environment around her faded to a dull darkness. However, she instantly found herself in another all too familiar memory. Another younger version of herself was in a clean pink dress and sitting at an actual desk, though her feet couldn't touch the ground because she was so short. On the board in front of her was written in neat cursive chalk writing, 'Welcome to the First Grade!'

Sleeping Helga knew this scenario all too well, and the thoughts she had had at the time began to flood her memory. She remembered her resolution after the pre-school fiasco to tell Arnold by the time elementary school began; it would be a clean slate for them all—a new school, a bigger class, and a new chance for him to like her just as much as she liked him. She had pretty much avoided him for the rest of the school year after the Valentine's incident in preschool, and in kindergarten she'd chickened out of every idea she'd had for confessing, too afraid of a repeat of what had happened the first time. But now she knew it was time; she could do this and no one would stop her.

The part of Helga's mind that was still vaguely aware that this was all a dream merely sighed again, hoping that this would be the last depressing scene she would have to endure before finally waking up. '_This is like watching a blooper reel of my life! Sheesh, I mean, who __else__ does stuff like this happen to—__honestly__?'_

Meanwhile, six-year-old Helga continued to ponder just what would be the best way to tell Arnold her feelings. Suddenly, though, she was interrupted from her thoughts by the kind-looking teacher now standing at the front of the classroom who was attempting to address her and her fellow students. "Good Morning, boys and girls! We've all had a wonderful first day of first grade so far, haven't we?"

The children stopped shuffling in their seats and turned their young, eager faces to the kind woman standing before them. She smiled back. "Now, I just finished reading the summer vacation paragraphs each of you handed in this morning and, I must say, I was very impressed! Your handwriting is very good, overall, and each of you had such interesting little stories to tell me. Your spelling is very good also for a class just starting elementary school!"

The young children all beamed at their teacher, happy for the praise.

The young woman pulled out a stack of papers from her desk drawer, separating one from the pile. "Now, before I hand them back I'd like to read one of the best ones aloud. In fact, this student wrote a poem instead of a paragraph about her vacation, which I think will be very helpful for you all to hear since we'll be talking about poems at the end of the year after our chapter book unit."

Young Helga was still a little distracted thinking about how best to confess to Arnold but, upon hearing this, her cheeks became a scarlet red and her small hands gripped the side of her desk hard. '_Other people write poems, right? I'm not the only one. But, what if I am and what if Arnold finds out…No, I'm NOT READY, I'm just NOT READY! Forget what I said, I can't tell him now—I'll DIE!'_

The teacher cleared her throat, and read from the piece of paper in front of her which Young Helga unfortunately recognized as her own due to it's uniquely pink tinge. "This is called 'My Summer Project'— '_Arnold throws out lots of stuff, Some of it's yucky but most I keep, He almost saw me one time, But I hided across the street; Most days I did this, I like him so it was fun, Summer at my house is boring, But summer near Arnold is warm like the sun_.'"

The teacher gave her class a look of warning as they began to snicker and giggle, and one very shy little blond boy turned a bright red and sunk low in his seat. "Now, students, you shouldn't laugh at each other's feelings…" She scanned the poem briefly, then asked, "Hmm, don't we have an Arnold in here?"

Arnold, with a very embarrassed grin on his face, timidly raised his hand in the air. The teacher smiled at him. "Don't feel embarrassed, Arnold, you're very lucky to have someone who cares about you so much, and right in your own class."

Arnold tried to give her a timid smile back, but seemed to just want her to move on.

The teacher gave a small chuckle. "Alright, I'll hand these back now. But, first, could the person who wrote this please come up and get it? Hel—"

Young Helga gasped, though no one noticed. The teacher's eyes fell right on her and, when she noticed the panicky look on the six-year-old's face, she stopped mid-name. Luckily, in that brief pause the bell signaling the end of the school day finally rang as well. The children bolted from their desks, carrying their large backpacks and all wearing smiles, eager to tell their families all about their first day of elementary school.

Young Helga waited until everyone else had left and then slowly approached her teacher's desk to reclaim her paper. "Um…excuse me," she said shyly. "Um, that's mine." She pointed to the pink page her teacher was still holding. "Can I have it, please?"

With a kind smile, the teacher handed the little paper to the worried looking girl in front of her. In a sincere voice, she said to the youngster, "Helga, you were a little embarrassed that I read your poem, weren't you?"

Young Helga nodded her head, the blush on her cheeks strengthening.

The teacher's face took on a concerned expression. "I'm sorry, Helga, I should have realized it might upset you. But it was a very good piece of writing for someone your age—you should be very proud of it!" She smiled again and put her hand on Helga's shoulder, then said in a playful whisper, "I'll tell you what—from now on, if you want to submit a poem and I think it's so special that it deserves to be read in front of the class, I won't mention your name at all, okay?"

Young Helga considered this, and then silently nodded her head.

"And just between you and me," the teacher added, leaning in closer to the uncertain little girl before her, "maybe after this year (once you've learned how to spell better) you should put 'Anonymous' on your poems along with your name, that way your teachers will know that you'd rather they didn't tell anyone that you wrote them." The woman winked and Young Helga smiled, intrigued by this suggestion.

"Um…thanks," she said gratefully. Then she stuffed the poem inside her backpack and left the classroom.

As she walked down the hallway she sighed mentally to herself. '_Maybe I shouldn't tell Arnold just yet—it seemed like a good idea, but I don't think I'm ready now…Maybe next year._'

A smile came to Young Helga's face at this resolution, and her thoughts then turned to the interesting conversation she had just had with her teacher. '_Maybe I'll try that—what was it called—that 'Nony-mus' thing next year, once I learn how to spell it. For now, at least, she promised not to tell so I can keep handing in all the stuff I write about Arnold. Oh, Arnold, I had so much fun collecting all those things that used to be yours this summer—your old shirt, that broken shoe lace you threw out, those blocks you didn't want…Hmm, I've got too much stuff now to keep hiding it in that shoe box under my bed. I have to find a bigger place to keep it all…maybe my closet could work…'_

The scene went dark again, and the part of Helga still vaguely aware that this was all a dream was hoping that this time around she'd finally be able to wake-up and escape this random collection of some of the worst Arnold-related moments in her life. '_Crimeny, __please__ tell me this is over already!'_

Sadly, though, Helga found herself reliving yet another new scenario, and this one much more recent than the first two.

'_Uh oh, this isn't…oh man, it is, isn't it!? Oh, for Pete's sake, wasn't living through this __once__ enough?'_

Young Helga was in the jumper she wore normally, only Sleeping Helga recognized from the situation that she knew would play out before her that she was in third grade rather than fourth.

An observer would have thought that Young Helga was just taking yet another long drink from the water fountain over which her head was bent, but a closer look would reveal that she was gazing ever so slightly upward at the poster mounted just above the fountain announcing the annual third grade dance occurring tonight. Young Helga had been stealing glances at it for the past two weeks, always under the guise of quenching some kind of incredible thirst. She had wanted Arnold to ask her so badly—this would be their first dance ever (dances were never held for any grade lower than third) and she had been dreaming every night of showing up with him and dancing together until he fell as madly in love with her as she was with him. At the very least, she wanted to dance with him once while she was there. Somehow this night would be perfect…and maybe she could finally tell Arnold her secret.

Sleeping Helga watched the scene shift to her house a few hours before the dance, where her younger self had snuck an old dress from her sister Olga's closet and locked herself in her room as she tried to sew it so that it would fit her. Young Helga had never tried to sew anything before but, since she couldn't count on her parents to buy her a new outfit for the event, she had been reading and rereading a how-to book on the subject that she had managed to check out of the library. It was harder than she had thought it would be, but after several hours and several punctured fingers Young Helga finally managed to form the dress into something wearable. On Olga it had been a short powder pink dress with thick silk straps and a small red crystal shaped like a heart embedded between them at the bottom of the neckline. Young Helga's modifications had changed it a bit, but all in all she thought it looked rather pretty. Being much younger and smaller than Olga had been when she had worn it, the dress went down to Young Helga's feet. She had removed the heart crystal (it just seemed tacky to her), and she had added a small slit on either side of the dress on the bottom. Posing in the mirror with her hair done up, eight-year-old Helga thought she looked rather sophisticated. The part of Helga's mind still aware that she was dreaming scoffed as she remembered this detail. '_I guess that's why I wore it that time I tried to prove to Arnold how 'sophisticated' I could be during that dinner at Chez Pierre…Sheesh, that night was a fiasco! Well…except for that wink he gave me…that was alright…'_). Young Helga smiled with excitement about how wonderful the dance would be that night. "If this doesn't get Football Head to dance with me, nothing will."

In her dream, Helga watched her younger self walking to the dance. By the time she got to P.S. 118, everybody was already inside and the party was well under way (it had taken her a little longer than expected to put the final alterations on her outfit and to make sure that her hair was secured tightly in a bun) so she entered quietly and managed to find a chair against the wall next to her best friend, Phoebe Heyerdahl.

"Hiya Pheebs—yeesh, talk about geek central!" Young Helga smirked and pointed toward her other classmates who were awkwardly trying to dance with each other in the center of the room. All of the boys were in stiff suits that their parents had obviously stuffed them in for the occasion, and the girls were doing their best to keep their new dresses as neat and pretty as possible despite the fact that the boys kept trodding on the trims with their feet.

Phoebe turned to her best friend and smiled brightly. "Hi, Helga. I didn't think you were coming. Your dress is quite gorgeous!"

Young Helga couldn't help but smile at the compliment, glad that all her hard work had paid off. "Yeah, well…I found an opening in my busy schedule. Besides, I wouldn't miss half of our class making complete fools of themselves in public!"

Phoebe giggled slightly and, before her bully mode overtook her completely, Young Helga added, "You look nice too Phoebe…and um, thanks."

Phoebe smiled and the two girls began to talk, though Helga constantly looked for Arnold out of the corner of her eye, hoping he would notice her soon. He seemed to be across the room, talking and laughing with his best friend, Gerald, and Young Helga couldn't help but feel a little resentment at the tall-haired boy for taking up so much time that Arnold could be spending with her.

After a little while, the few other girls sitting around Young Helga and Phoebe had finally been asked to dance, leaving the two of them alone with each other. Suddenly, Young Helga noticed Gerald get up and leave his best friend behind in his chair. She smiled, happy that Arnold might finally have a chance to notice her. Suddenly, Gerald appeared in front of Young Helga and Phoebe, a sly grin on his face. He turned to the latter and said in a smooth voice, "Hey, Babe, wanna dance?"

Phoebe giggled and blushed slightly, then turned to Young Helga to make sure that she was okay with being left alone. Young Helga gave her friend a small smile, happy that she would finally get a chance to be alone now that Arnold was alone as well.

Satisfied, Phoebe turned back to Gerald. "Um, of course, Gerald…That would be delightful!"

The two third graders walked out onto the dance floor together and became lost in the crowd already there.

Young Helga took a deep breath and stood up. Before she could stop herself she had walked directly over to Arnold and sat herself in Gerald's now vacant seat. Casually, and in as pleasant a voice as she could muster, she began, "So, Football Head…havin' fun?"

Arnold hadn't noticed her at first but then realized with surprise that Helga was suddenly sitting next to him. "Oh, um, hi Helga. Yeah, I guess it's okay…Are you having a good time?"

Young Helga shrugged. "I guess so." There was a momentary silence, during which Young Helga decided that it was now or never. "So, it looks like our two best friends are having fun." She gestured toward the dance floor where Gerald was trying to teach a beaming Phoebe how to do the electric slide.

Arnold nodded. "Yeah, I told him Phoebe would say yes if he asked her. I'm glad they're having a good time." He grinned, happy for his friend.

Young Helga swallowed hard, having resigned herself to the fact that if either of them was going to ask the other to dance, it would be her asking him. "So, Arnold…um, would you like to…I mean, would you—AHHH!!!"

Young Helga was cut off in mid-sentence as the entire punch bowl from the nearby table landed on her head, staining her dress and causing her hair to fall scraggly around her head. From the other end of the table came the familiar sound of "I'm okay" as Eugene Horowitz pulled himself up from under the table and managed to dislodge half a six foot hero from his hair. Young Helga, furious that her outfit and her one chance at asking Arnold to dance had been ruined, flung the bowl off of her head and ran for him yelling "I'm gonna KILL you, Eugene!!!" at the top of her lungs.

Eugene tried to outrun her but slipped on some of the punch and fell to the floor again. Towering over his cringing form, Helga grabbed him by the collar of his suit, pulled him up, and pulled back her right fist. "Any last words, Geek Bait?"

Eugene closed his eyes and awaited the blow but, suddenly, Young Helga felt a very warm and very familiar hand holding back her poised arm, and a voice she knew all too well said from behind her, "Helga STOP, it was an accident! Please, put him down!"

Young Helga hesitated a moment, but then she couldn't resist that soft feeling of his palm on her shoulder or the sincerity of his sweet voice any longer. She dropped Eugene with a sigh and turned to Arnold with a dark scowl, punch still dripping from her hair. "Fine, Football Head, he's not even worth my time!"

With that, she stormed across the dance floor and out of the school, planting herself at the bottom of the cement steps leading to the building entrance. There, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat shivering in her wet dress, waiting for her ride which wouldn't come for at least another half an hour (if she was lucky and Miriam or Big Bob showed up at all). She felt tears in her eyes but she didn't try to stop them—no one was out there and, besides, it was impossible to tell the difference between the red punch dripping down her face and the warm tears falling from her eyes, anyway. She kept her face in a resolute scowl, though, arms folded tightly around her knees as though protecting herself.

After a few minutes she thought she heard footsteps approaching, and attempted to wipe the tears from her eyes under the guise of removing some of the punch from her face with the end of her dress.

"Helga, are you okay?"

Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat. She straightened up and her eyes widened but, as Arnold sat beside her, she quickly regained her normal composure. She folded her arms in front of her chest, crossed one leg over the other, and turned her face forward so that he wouldn't be able to see how red her eyes had gotten from crying. "What's it to you Arnold-o?!"

A younger Arnold might have been taken aback by her tone but, by eight years old, he was already used to her sudden bursts of attitude and simply said back, "I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. Have you been out here this whole time?"

His concern touched her deeply but she was still fuming over what had happened on the dance floor such a short time ago. Unwilling to show any vulnerability, she spat back, "No, Arnold, I took a trip around the world in a hot air balloon in the last twenty minutes but then decided that I felt nostalgic and came back here just for the heck of it—ruined dress and all! Sheesh, what a dumb question!"

Arnold sighed. "Well, I'm going to go back inside, see you Helga." He stood up, a defeated look on his face, and began to head back toward the entrance to the school.

Before she knew what she was doing, Young Helga suddenly stood up and called in a panicky voice, "Arnold, WAIT!"

He stopped and turned to face her.

"Arnold…I…I…I wanted to tell you…something." She swallowed hard. '_I can do this, I know I can do this!'_

He waited. "Well, what is it?"

She sighed. "I just…I really, really…I mean…Arnold, I—"

"YOU-WHO, Baby Sister!!!"

'_Oh, Jiminy Crickets, No.'_

Young Helga reluctantly turned her head around only to see a truly dreadful sight before her: her sister, Olga, had just pulled up in her purple convertible and was waving enthusiastically from the driver's seat.

"Helga, Mummy and Daddy are a little busy but I decided to come home from college for the weekend so I thought I'd pick you up! Now, it's time to go home, Helga, so say goodbye to your little date!"

Young Helga smacked her forehead with the open palm of her right hand and closed her eyes in exasperation. Her cheeks flooded with color and she was thankful that the red punch staining her skin was masking this sudden sign of her utter embarrassment.

Arnold cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, staring down at the ground. Young Helga didn't mind feeling uncomfortable herself but she couldn't stand putting Arnold in a situation like that.

She glared at her sister and growled. "Shut it, Olga—I'll be there in a minute! And mind your own business!" She then turned back to Arnold. "And as for you Football Head," she got up close to his flustered face, "if you ever get in my way again when I'm trying to put one of those geeks we're forced to associate with in their place, I swear I'll punt that Football Head of yours a full 100 yards—and DON'T YOU FORGET IT!!!" She shoved her beloved as hard as her enamored heart would let her (which was barely enough to cause him to stumble backward a few inches) and stomped off to Olga's car without looking back.

She slammed the passenger door.

"Helga, what are you covered with? And why are you so upset, Baby Sister? Didn't you have a good time?"

Young Helga barely had the strength to tell her off. "Just drive, Olga—Okay, please, just drive!"

The rest of the car ride home was silent with only one thought crossing Young Helga's mind the entire time. '_I'm such a coward…such a complete coward! That's it—I'll tell him next year, even if it kills me…Anything's better than this…anything…'_

As Young Helga exited her sister's car at the end of the journey and made her way to her front door, one final thought occurred to her that seemed even more important than yet another failed confession_. 'I'll never touch him like that again. And I'll make sure no one else does either—If people think that no one messes with Helga G. Pataki, they won't even know what's coming to them if they try to mess with Arnold.' _By the time she had made it up the stairs and safely into her room, her silent tears had managed to clean a solid line of the red punch from her sticky, stained face.

The scene went black again.

'_Okay that does it; I'm SICK of this dream!!!" _Screamed the Sleeping Helga, who was becoming more and more aware (and annoyed) that she was dreaming.

However, the dream didn't stop there: it continued through several familiar botched fourth grade confessions including yet another Valentine's Day to remember, an apology after a certain magic show that had almost gotten a little too personal, a tempting opportunity following her first therapy session, a hike to a certain overlook in a forest gone awry, a random misadventure in the cave's of Elk Island where she'd almost spilled the beans, and several memorable others. After each one, Helga became more and more frustrated that she was trapped in a dream until she finally found herself about to relive the most significant and unforgettable 'confession' in her young life.

'_Okay, I can seriously WAKE UP now!!! Is there any need to relive this—we all know what happens! Crimeny, haven't I watched myself go down in flames enough for one night?!'_

However, despite her pleas Sleeping Helga suddenly found herself watching a much more current version of herself saying the familiar lines of her only successful confession over again as she confronted Arnold on top of the FTi building.

"…I love you Arnold, I've always loved you ever since I first laid eyes on that stupid Football Head of yours! And from that moment and every moment since, I've lived and breathed for you, dreamed of the moment I could finally tell you my secret feelings, and could grab you and kiss you and…AW, COME HERE YA BIG LUG!"

However much she wanted out of this dream, though, Sleeping Helga was more than ready to lose herself in the memory of that kiss…

"AHHH!!!"

Helga sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily and instantly wide-awake. "Crimeny, I was finally getting to a good part and I _now_ I wake up! And it's barely even morning." Helga peered out of her curtains; the city was a dusky grey color with barely any details visible from the surrounding buildings and streets. "Sheesh," she threw herself back down on her mattress, "I wonder what woke me up?"

As if in answer to her question, a brisk knock sounded at her door followed by the entrance of the one person she NEVER wanted to see in the mornings.

"Good Morning, Baby Sister! Are you finally awake, sleepyhead? I've been calling you from downstairs for the past half hour!"

Helga, too shocked to even ask her older sister what she doing here yet, merely rolled her eyes over to the small alarm clock near her bed. "Olga," she began in a level though obviously annoyed voice, "it's 8 AM and it's Sunday…MORNING DOESN'T START FOR ANOTHER 2 HOURS!!!"

Olga giggled. "Oh, Helga, you know what they say: 'the early bird catches the worm!' Now, get dressed and come downstairs to help me put together a great big, scrumptious breakfast for Mummy and Daddy! Then I have some other things I need you to help me with…"

She started to walk away but Helga jumped out of bed and managed to corner her in the hallway before she could prance downstairs. "Hey, first of all it's SUNDAY and if you wanna get up at the crack of dawn that's YOUR business but leave us NORMAL human beings out of it! Second, I am _not_ your special slave helper so don't even try ordering me around! Third, I have plans today and there's no way in heck I'm breaking them! And fourth, and most important of all, WHAT IN THE NAME OF CREATION ARE YOU DOING HERE, OLGA?!"

Helga was breathing hard and shouting at the top of her lungs, not caring whether or not she woke up Big Bob or Miriam at this point.

Olga continued smiling and whispered in a still cheerful voice, "Oh, sweetie, a few of the other student teachers at my school up in Alaska were planning a trip down south for this week, so I just took off and I figured I'd tag along at the last minute! Now, you get ready and then meet me in the kitchen so we can start the day right!"

And, with that, she skipped down the stairs as bubbly as ever, leaving a tired and very disheveled looking Helga to grumble in the darkness of the hallway all by herself. "Fine, I'll help her with her stupid breakfast (even if she DID ruin the only decent part of my dream) but there's no way I'm missing out on spending time with Arnold just to cater to her inane desires—NO STINKIN' WAY!". She sighed mentally and couldn't help but add as an after thought considering the content her recent dreams, '_Even if it __will__ probably just turn into some kind of disappointing _fiasco'.

Helga gave an exasperated sigh and trudged back to her room to begin removing her clothes for the day from one of her dresser drawers. "Crimeny, why can't I just tell Arnold once and for all that I love him? I'm so sick of having to pretend all the time! And I came so close on top of that building!" She slammed the drawer shut and went over to her closet to get her shoes. "Crimeny, I even got the WORDS out! What the heck is wrong with me; taking it back!" She grabbed a pair of white tennis shoes and slammed the closet door shut. "That's it—one of these days the perfect opportunity to tell Arnold everything is going to come along and instead of trying to sabotage it, or ignoring, or just letting it pass me by I am going to take full advantage of it! I'm NOT gonna be a basket case anymore!" And with that Helga reluctantly began to get dressed, determined to see her beloved Arnold today at all costs.

* * *

"Thanks Mr. Potts, I'll see you later!" Arnold was half way out of Ernie Potts' door with his rent check in his hands when he heard the words he dreaded whenever collecting the rent, but ones that seemed to be following him everywhere today.

"Hey, Arnold, before you go can you come here and help me with something?"

Arnold sighed. "Mr. Potts, I'm actually supposed to be meeting someone to study in," Arnold checked his wrist watch, "fifteen minutes. Is there anyway I could come back later and—"

"Aw, Arnold, it'll just take a second, I swear!" Mr. Potts stood erect with his right hand over his heart and his left held up in the air with his palm facing out as though he were making a pledge. Arnold gave another sigh, this one much more defeated sounding, and reluctantly reentered the room.

"Okay Mr. Potts, but please make it quick—I have a ton of other stuff to do before my friend gets here!"

Mr. Potts smiled and led the tired fourth grader into his room. "It's nothing much kid," he said, scratching his head, "I just need some help sorting these." He pulled a sheet off of a couple of crates, each filled to the brim with bricks of all different shapes and sizes. Mr. Potts explained the situation to a very confused looking Arnold. "Ya see, these are all souvenir bricks from every demolition I've ever done, and I've been meaning to get them in order for some time. Anyway, the guys from the 500 Club are coming over this afternoon and, you know, they expect to see something like this in order, not just shoved under my bed. They're numbered and everything—I just need to stack them by tens. Do you think you can help me, kid?"

Arnold was very close to saying 'no' this time around, but his better nature overtook him when he saw the pleading look on Mr. Potts' face. He sighed yet again and replied weakly, "Sure, Mr. Potts…uh, no problem."

About five minutes later the two of them had only managed to sort through the first couple rows of bricks and Arnold was really beginning to run short on time. '_Helga said she might be late, but still…' _Arnold decided that, considering the circumstances, he would have to do to Mr. Potts what he had done to all the other boarders who seemed to be in desperate need of his help that morning (like Mr. Huynh trying to reupholster his couches, or Oscar trying to bundle next week's papers for his paper route, and even Susie needing someone to fold the laundry with her [Arnold had had to go to her to actually get the rent check when Oscar had revealed half way through rolling papers that he actually didn't have it on him at that moment). He cleared his throat. "Um, Mr. Potts…I've got to, um, go to the bathroom…but I promise I'll be back later to finish up with you, okay?"

Thankfully, Ernie was too distracted reminiscing with his bricks to really notice Arnold's flimsy attempt at an excuse to leave. "Oh, number 143—that was a great demolition! It was an old opera house and the sound that rang through that place when we sent the ball through it—Huh, oh, okay, Arnold , sounds good—Yeah, I'll never forget that sound…" He continued talking in this matter, all the while rubbing the crumbling brick against his face with his eyes closed in happiness.

Smiling, Arnold quietly slipped out of the room, happy to have collected his last rent check and evaded his last boarder for the day. As he made his way downstairs to give his Grandpa the money, he stole a worried glance at his watch. "Okay, it's 11:55 now! If Helga's five minutes late, that gives me 10 minutes to take Abner for a quick walk around the block! I've just got to find…"

Suddenly, Arnold turned a corner and discovered his Grandpa sitting at the kitchen table drinking a mug of coffee and eating a plate of cookies. Arnold raced into the kitchen, panting from his quick trip through the house. "Hi Grandpa, here's the rent!" He handed the checks to the old man who took them with a smile. "Thank you, Shortman!" He pocketed them, and then noticed how out of breath his Grandson was. "Hey, what's the rush?"

Arnold sat for a minute and took one of the cookies, having not eaten breakfast yet. "I'm just trying to get my chores done by the time Helga comes over, Grandpa. But I uh," he blushed and took a quick bite of the cookie in his hand, "slept in a little late."

Grandpa's smile became a sly and suspecting grin. "I see; bad dreams?"

"Well…" Arnold cast his eyes downward, feeling a little uncomfortable with the idea of discussing this particular dream with his grandfather.

Grandpa's grin widened. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

Arnold couldn't help but blush a little deeper. "Um, no, that's okay, Grandpa. I'll be fine." He stood and swallowed the last bite of his cookie, trying to change the subject. "I've just got to get ready to meet Helga; I'll see you later!"

Arnold was about the leave the kitchen when his grandfather called him back. "Eh, Shortman?"

Arnold turned around, hoping that whatever his Grandpa might have to say would be quick.

"You seem to really be enjoying the time you're spending with that girl with the pink bow and the one eyebrow…"

Arnold sighed. "Her name's 'Helga', Grandpa."

Grandpa chuckled a little. "Right, right, 'Helga.' Well, you two certainly seem to be having a good time together…Eh, what is it you're working on again?"

Arnold whistled for Abner, wanting to waste as little time as possible getting out the door once his conversation with his Grandpa was over. "She's helping me with poetry, Grandpa, for school. We have an assignment due tomorrow."

Abner sprang into the kitchen through the pig door and jumped right into Arnold's arms. Arnold gave him a pat on the head and then grabbed his leash off a hook near the door and slipped it over his neck.

"But I thought you two finished up with all that yesterday—you were telling me all last night how much she helped you?" The question sounded more cunningly curious than genuinely sincere, but Arnold was in such a rush to leave that he wasn't noticing.

"Well, she did help me yesterday, but…there's something else I need to talk to her about and it's really important." Listening to himself, Arnold realized that he still had no plan for how to bring up the FTi incident with Helga in a way that wouldn't make her flee in panic from his room as she had done yesterday. Besides that, he also wasn't sure how long he would be able to get her to stay considering that she had already taught him a bunch of techniques and improved him a lot as a poetry writer the previous day…Come to think of it, hadn't they both even already decided that he would just hand in one of the practice poems he had done with her tomorrow?

'_I guess I should just sit her down alone and calmly let her know that it's okay that she loves me, and that I really care about her and admire her, and find her interesting…and that I'd like to know more about her…and maybe spend some more time with her if she doesn't mind…' _Now that he thought about it, Arnold really had enjoyed getting to know Helga yesterday. She was a little rough around the edges but it was fascinating to explore an entirely different side of her (the poet) that he had never even known existed—she was actually really comfortable to be around and sometimes even a lot of fun to talk with!

"Arnold? Hello, Arnold? Didn't you say you were in a hurry, Shortman?"

Grandpa was grinning ear to ear and snapping his fingers in front of Arnold's face, which had taken on a very dreamy look and a very content smile. He continued to maintain this vacant stare for a moment before starting at the sound of his Grandpa's snapping fingers. "Huh, what? Oh um…" '_Hmm…I guess I'm just worried that I'll be late and miss my chance to talk to her about all this once and for all…' _"You're right, Grandpa! I'll be back in a few minutes—if Helga comes, just send her up to my room!"

And with that Arnold raced out the door with Abner but not before his Grandpa managed to call out to him, "You know, Shortman, I still say she likes you! HEH HEH HEH!"

Arnold tried to act like he was too far away to hear these final words, but couldn't help turn a bright scarlet as he entered the sidewalk with his pet pig. '_You have no idea Grandpa, you have no idea…'_

* * *

Helga had gotten dressed and was downstairs in the kitchen with her sister in a matter of minutes. She gave a deep yawn and in a falsely perky voice finally asked, "So, what happy task do you want me to do first, Olga? Peel potatoes, chop onions, skin fruit, pluck chickens…"

Olga giggled again. "Oh, Helga, you're such a silly! Here," she handed her a bowl of pancake batter, "why don't you just add some eggs to that and stir it for a while—I'll let you know when the griddle's ready."

Just then, the final two Pataki's emerged sleepily into the kitchen with Big Bob leading the way. "What the heck is going on here?!" he started groggily. "I'm dreaming about going national with the beeper empire, next thing I know I wake up to the girl screaming in the hall!" Suddenly, his eyes opened wide as he realized who was standing in the kitchen. "OLGA, it's you!!! When the heck did you get here?!"

Olga smiled and flipped a large omelet in the air. "Oh, about an hour ago, Daddy! I just decided to take a little vacation and come and visit my two wonderful parents and my darling baby sister, and I figured as long as I got here so early I'd make a big breakfast for everyone! Isn't that right Helga?"

"Whatever," Helga said in a flat voice, continuing to stir the batter.

"Now, you two just go back upstairs and take your time getting dressed and everything, and when you come back down make sure to bring your appetites!" And with that she hurried her still sleepy parents upstairs and then went right back to work.

Helga looked over at the clock above the stove and groaned to herself. '_Ugh, it's only 9 AM—3 more hours without Arnold…'_ Helga scanned the kitchen and took in all of the pots and pans and plates and utensils Olga was using, and sighed as she considered how long it would take to cook the meal, serve it and clean everything up, not to mention the other stuff Olga had vaguely hinted that she would need Helga to do this morning. '_Oh brother—I left a dream about kissing Arnold for this! Ugh…I'm gonna be here forever.'_

* * *

'_You have no idea Grandpa, you have no idea…'_

Arnold was so distracted with this thought that, all of a sudden, he felt himself slam into someone while he was coming around a corner.

"OUCH!"

"OUCH!"

Arnold rubbed his head, eyes shut, and did his best to hold on to a struggling Abner's leash. The first thought that entered his mind was, '_Oh no! I bumped into Helga AGAIN! I bet she already went to my house and got so angry that I wasn't on time when I said I'd be that she just stormed away. She's probably sprawled on the ground in front of me right now, and any second I'll hear her say_—'

"Arnold, are you alright?"

The next thought that came to his mind upon hearing this familiar voice come from what he assumed would be Helga's body before him was, '_Oh no, I'm dreaming again, aren't I?'_

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and saw standing before him the concerned face of a fair, red-haired young girl with braids, her arm outstretched to help him up.

"Oh, hi, Lila," Arnold replied with some relief as he accepted her hand and stood, dusting himself off. "I'm fine. Are you okay?"

She smiled. "Certainly, Arnold. Thank you for asking. How is your weekend going?"

Arnold pulled hard on Abner's leash to keep him from knocking over a trashcan. "Oh, fine…I have to get going though, actually. I'm meeting Helga in a little while…She's been helping me with something for school."

Lila continued smiling. "Well, gosh, Arnold, that sounds ever so nice…Are you two getting along well together?"

A small half smile came to Arnold's lips. "Actually, yeah…it's been a very interesting experience."

"Well, I'm glad for you, Arnold. Helga might act a little… 'unpleasant' sometimes but I truly think she means well, and I'm oh too sure you two could become great friends if you got to know each other a little better."

Arnold grinned, surprised by Lila's attitude about Helga (it always felt like he was the only one who saw past her tough girl façade). "You know, I think you're right, Lila!" He began absentmindedly scratching Abner behind the ears. "Thanks." He wasn't quite sure why he had added that last part but, for some reason, it felt right. "Well, I'll see you in school tomorrow, Lila." He waved and started to walk away, suddenly feeling very confident about how his meeting with Helga would go.

He moved a few feet up the road before Lila called back to him. "Oh, Arnold?"

He stopped and turned back around. "Yeah?"

She checked her watch. "Would it be okay if I stopped by your house this afternoon and picked up that workbook I loaned you for science class? There's a page of it I need to redo for tomorrow, and I forgot that you had it until this morning."

Arnold waved back at her. "Sure, come by whenever you can. Helga and I will probably be in my room."

"Thank you, Arnold!" she called back before resuming her stroll down the sidewalk.

Arnold continued his quick walk with Abner, and finally arrived back at the door to the Boarding House at exactly noon sharp. And what interested him the most was that even though the nicest, prettiest, cleverest girl in school was going to be stopping by his house sometime later that day, he was too wrapped up with what might happen between himself and Helga in the next few hours to even give it a second thought…

* * *

"Okay Olga, LISTEN TO ME!" Helga cupped her hands around her mouth simulating a blow horn even though her sister was seated right next to her in the car. "I-NEED-YOU-TO-BRING-ME-HOME-**NOW**!"

Olga shook her head back and forth as she turned the car down another side street and tutted. "Oh, Helga, there'll be plenty of time to play with your little friends when we're done with all of our chores!"

Helga gave a frustrated sigh and sunk lower in her seat, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She scowled and growled back, "I'm not 5 Olga—I don't 'play with my little friends!' I'm SUPPOSED to be helping someone with a school project! I promised I'd meet them at their house at noon and it's already," Helga examined the clock on the car dashboard, "11:15!"

It wasn't that Helga wasn't grateful for a chance to escape the company of her 'blowhard father' and 'lame mother' as she liked to put it but, after a full morning of being completely under her big sister's care, she had _had_ it! Olga had woken Helga up at 8AM on a **Sunday** morning, then drafted her into spending nearly two hours preparing a ridiculously huge and complicated breakfast, after which Helga had been forced to clean the entire kitchen by herself for an hour while Olga entertained her parents in the living room with regaling stories about her trip from Alaska. Now, for the last hour Olga had been driving her all over the city to random gourmet shops to pick up ingredients for the 'fabulous' dinner she was planning for this evening. And, throughout all of this, despite Helga's protests, her sister had refused to comprehend the fact that Helga had some place to be today; a place she wasn't about to miss out on—for anything!

Olga flashed one of her award winning smiles at the still annoyed Helga. "Oh, baby sister, don't worry! We just have a few more places to stop at before we go home." She winked, and then rummaged through her purse as she stopped the car at a red light. "Here, sweetie," she said, handing Helga a small purple cell phone, "why don't you call your little friend if you're so worried that you might be late?"

Helga snatched the phone from her sister's hand and shot back in a dissatisfied, "Fine."

She dialed the number she knew so well and, after a couple of rings, heard a voice that she eventually recognized as Arnold's.

"Hello?" a very sleepy sounding voice sais into the receiver.

"Hey Football Head…this is Football Head, right?"

"Helga!" Helga blinked—she'd never heard his voice crack like that. '_I hope he's not sick…Oh, my beloved, if you're unwell I'll escape the evil clutches of that queen of perfection and annoyance 'Olga' and find a way to nurse you back to health!' _There was a pause, then she heard in a much stronger sounding voice, "I mean…_Helga_…yeah it's me…"

* * *

Arnold walked back into the boarding house, a knot in his stomach about Helga's imminent arrival. '_I've only got today to get her to open up…to find out what I need to know about her before it's too late…I wonder if she's here yet?'_

"Hey, Grandpa!" Arnold called from the hallway. "Grandpa, did Helga come by yet?"

There was no answer from the kitchen, living room, or den. Arnold shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well, maybe he's upstairs…"

Quickly, the young fourth grader released his pet pig and raced up the steps. "Grandpa? Grandpa! Are you up here?" he called as he reached the second landing, nearly out of breath. However, rather than the smiling face of his Grandfather, Arnold was met with a much more awkward sight.

"There he is!"

"Yes, there he is!

"We found him!"

Arnold swallowed hard: standing before him with very annoyed looks on their faces were all of the boarders.

"Arnold, I need you to help me bundle these papers. You said you were going to come back and help me finish up, heh heh heh," Mr. Kokoschka grinned, brandishing as many loose papers as he could carry in his two arms.

"Arnold, honestly, I would have expected better from you. Leaving me to finish up the laundry all on my own is something _Oskar_ would do!" Suzie tapped her foot in frustration, a laundry basket against her right hip and a bag of dirty clothes slung over her back.

"Arnold, you know I need two people to redo the two big couches in the living room. Please hurry!" Mr. Huynh held a how-to book for reupholstering under his arm.

"Arnold, come on—the guys from the 500 club are gonna be here in an hour and I'm only through Number 352 with my bricks! What's the big idea?" Mr. Potts held a beige colored, half-broken brick in his hand, the number 352 painted in black on its surface.

Arnold stood still, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. Ever since he had started collecting the rent for his Grandparents he had found ways to get out of the random chores that all the boarders seemed to require of him upon finally handing over their rent checks. However, considering his naturally helpful nature, Arnold had always at least tried to complete the crazy requests of each tenant, only abandoning the more insurmountable tasks on the rare occasions when they presented themselves. He had never tried abandoning them all at once, however, and the consequences of now doing so all so he could be on time for Helga were now staring him in the face, awaiting an explanation.

Suddenly, the door to the hallway bathroom burst open and out walked the only person Arnold had actually wanted to find upon coming upstairs. "Whew—I should NOT have had the rest of that raspberry cobbler for breakfast!" Arnold's Grandpa rubbed his stomach and then looked up in surprise to see how full the previously empty hallway had become. He turned to his grandson for an explanation. "Hey, Shortman…eh, what's going on? Shouldn't you be in your room waiting for your little friend?"

Instantly, the boarders began echoing their demands afresh and Arnold gave his Grandpa a desperate look. Beginning to understand the situation, Grandpa tried to calm down the irate crowd in front of him and his Grandson. "Alright, alright! I get it—you all need help with your little problems!"

"Yeah, and Arnold promised to help me…eh, us!" cried out Mr. Kokoschka, adding the 'us' as Suzie shot him a fiery look.

Grandpa rested his hand against his hip. "Well, the boy has other plans; he's meeting his little friend again to study so you're all just gonna have to—OKAY ARNOLD, RUN!!!"

The boarders, distracted with listening to the argument they thought Grandpa was about to present, were too stunned to react to Arnold suddenly racing through their ranks to reach the ladder to his attic room. In fact, Arnold had already ascended the first couple of steps before they even realized what was going on.

"HEY, WAIT A MINUTE!!!"

"GET HIM!!!"

"ARNOLD, COME BACK HERE, HONESTLY!!!"

"RUN, SHORTMAN, RUN!!" yelled Grandpa over the other cries.

As the boarders climbed over one another in their race toward Arnold, the young fourth grader scrambled up the ladder and pulled the door leading to it shut behind him, cutting off their access to his room entirely.

Arnold shut his actual door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief, happy to be safe in his room. '_I'll never do that again—I'm just lucky Grandpa was there to help me! From now on, no more excuse to get out of helping one of them unless it's an emergency!'_

"Arnold, Arnold, come down here!"

"You promised to help me Arnold, and these newspapers are giving me paper cuts—ouch!"

"Arnold, you can see your little girlfriend later, the guys from the club will be here in a few minutes!"

Arnold could still hear their muffled cries from the floor below and blushed furiously at this last comment. '_Please don't let Mr. Potts say something like that when Helga gets here!' _Suddenly, his eyes flew open at the thought of Helga. How was she supposed to get up here with a mob of angry adults surrounding the entrance? "Not to mention," Arnold muttered to himself, "we probably won't be able to do much studying with all that racket going on."

Arnold couldn't make out exact phrases anymore but her could still hear murmuring and could only hope that his Grandpa had managed to subdue the boarders. '_Or they're plotting…which means I'm probably in trouble.' _Arnold briefly recalled the time many months back when a former tenant, Mr. Smith, had had a mysterious package delivered to the boarding house which the other boarders had fought tooth and nail to open—eventually succeeding in tearing the package to shreds with their bare hands (and tearing in half the picture inside of it to boot).

Suddenly, the perfect idea occurred to Arnold and he snapped his fingers, the smile back on his face. "The roof! I'll go up there and look out for Helga and tell her to come up the fire escape so she won't have to deal with the boarders. Then, if it's still too noisy in here, we can always study on the roof." Arnold took a quick glance at the Sunday afternoon sky above him, which shone a brilliant and cloudless royal blue—perfect weather for the outdoors!

In a flash, Arnold had scrambled over to his bed and was climbing the stairs to the panel of his skylight that opened, leading to both the roof and the fire escape. He maneuvered his way onto the roof and took a deep breath of fresh spring air as he prepared to sit down and await Helga's imminent arrival.

* * *

"Catch ya later, Football Head!" Helga hung up the phone, a little perplexed by the conversation she had just had with her beloved. '_ 'I'll be counting the minutes?' How cheesy is that? Boy, he must have had a rough night to be that out of it!'_

She popped the small phone back into her sister's purse. The second she saw that the phone conversation had ended, Olga immediately began speaking again.

"So, what subject are you helping your little friend with, Helga? You know, I always used to love tutoring my classmates when I was your age—I was the only person who tutored in all the subjects!" Olga was still refusing to shut up, much to Helga's chagrin.

Helga gritted her teeth. '_Great—I knew it was a mistake to tell her I was helping someone out for school…now she's gonna go on and on about how much of a perfect freakin' genius she is…'_

"That's great, Olga!" Helga snapped sarcastically (though, as usual, Olga didn't seem to notice her attitude.)

"So…which subject is it, baby sister?"

Helga was willing to say almost anything if it meant shutting Olga up, so she grudgingly muttered, "English."

"Oooo," squealed Olga, "English was my favorite subject! Which part of English, Helga—essays, short stories, poetry, speeches, classic literature—"

Realizing that this list could go on forever and just wanting some peace and quiet, Helga replied in an a tense voice, "Poetry, okay!"

"Oooo," squealed Olga again, "my baby sister, a poet laureate! You'll have to show me some of what you've written sometime!"

Helga scoffed. '_Yeah, right.'_

"So," Olga continued to pursue the conversation, much to Helga's annoyance, "which of your classmates are you going to visit? Is it that adorable little friend of yours, Phoebe? Oh, she's so sweet and such a good influence! Or that lovely little girl with all those pretty clothes—her name was Rhonda, right?" Olga's eyes widened in excitement. "OH, or is it my wonderful 'Little Sis' LIL—"

As Olga had continued on this particular rant Helga had been grinding her teeth progressively harder in frustration, thoroughly fed up with her older sister by now. But, as she heard Olga about to go start in on an explanation of the wonder and perfection of her relationship with her 'Little Sis' Lila, Helga just couldn't take it anymore and snapped back in a desperate attempt to cut her sister off, "ARNOLD, OKAY! It's ARNOLD—I'm going to see ARNOLD! Sheesh, now will you leave me alone and let me the heck out of this car?!"

She turned her face away from her sister to stare icily out of the passenger side window, and expected to hear Olga start gushing about how sweet and kind and polite a young person Arnold was…and maybe to even go off into an argument about how perfect he would be with Lila ('_Yuck!'_)

However, Helga merely heard her sister give a strange giggle. Slightly curious about this unexpected reaction, she turned to look at her with an eyebrow raised.

Olga noticed her sister's confusion and giggled harder, and then reached out to embrace her in a vice grip hug. "Oh, my sweet little Helga, almost all grown up!" Naturally, this action had a somewhat adverse effect on Olga's driving, as Helga could plainly see from the fact that the lavender convertible in which she was sitting was now swerving to hit a street sweeper head on.

"OLGA, DRIVE!!!" Helga yelled, and pushed her sister's arms off of her and back onto the steering wheel.

Instantly, Olga righted the car, but seemed more concerned with smiling through a face full of running mascara and tears of joy than her and her sister's near death experience.

"For Pete's Sake, Olga, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!" Helga was breathing hard and clutching her door, in shock at what her sister had just done. '_Crimeny, I hope for her sake that Miriam's driving skills aren't rubbing off on her!'_

"Oh, Helga," beamed Olga, who was now blowing her nose and smiling as she attempted to remove the running mascara from her cheeks, "I just can't believe you're going out on you first real date! My baby sister's all grown up!"

Too shocked to believe that she had actually heard right, Helga blinked and asked in a very bewildered voice, "Excuse me?"

Olga beamed, seeming to not hear her sister's question. "Oh, this will be so great, Helga! We'll go shopping and pick out an outfit for you and I'll do your hair—What about cute braids like Lila has? Oooo, and I can help you do your make-up! Oh, Helga," she placed a hand on Helga's shoulder, "This will be such a great bonding experience for us!" She stopped at another red light and looked a flabbergasted Helga in the eye. "I'll even put aside my plans to make Mummy and Daddy's dinner and drop you off and pick you up myself. Actually, come to think of it, you're so young that you'll need some kind of supervision so I'll just stay the whole time and chaperone you! Oh, won't this be great, Helga? Won't this be just simply FANTASTIC!?"

Helga's face had remained frozen in a dumbstruck expression during this entire announcement from Olga (though her right eye had begun to twitch slightly). She simply sat there, allowing herself to become lost in the thoughts that were randomly popping into her head at each new word her sister spoke. '_Heh…wow, this __is__ a nutty dream…I mean, I MUST still be dreaming. Heh, Olga coming home, making me help her cook a big meal and do inane chores all morning, and interfering with my already flimsy relationship with Arnold…Did I eat something bad last night, or something? I mean, maybe that chicken salad was tainted? I should make sure to check the label as soon as I wake up. Still, just to be sure none of this is actually happening (Whoo, I'm gonna be laughing about this doozy of a nightmare come morning, I just know it!), maybe I should…_

As Olga concluded her plans Helga pinched her left arm hard and yelled loudly, "OUCH!"

A concerned expression appeared on Olga's face. "Baby sister, are you alright?" Olga pulled over. "Do you need to see the doctor before we go dress shopping?"

Helga's eyes widened as big as they could go. '_Oh crap…Oh my…'_

Without speaking a word (and all the while with her wide eyes focused entirely on the now confirmed-real Olga), Helga undid her seatbelt, unlocked her door, carefully stepped out onto the pavement, and then closed the door behind her.

Olga was silent for a moment, very surprised at her little sister's actions. "Helga, silly…what are you—"

Before Olga had time to react or try and stop her, though, Helga bolted as fast as she could back down the street, never stopping to look back and hoping only to lose her sister (and that her sister didn't know where Arnold's house was.)

Helga scanned the shops nearby, trying to find a familiar one to guide her way to Arnold's. '_Hey, wait a minute—that's Slausen's!_ _Hmm, I guess we must have doubled back at some point…Oh well, it'll be a cinch to get to Arnold's from here!'_

Helga ducked into a small alleyway to catch her breath. "Still, maybe I did overact a little. Heck, maybe if I actually did just sit down and explain to Olga that this is NOT a date and that I'd appreciate it if she would just leave me and Arnold alone, she might actually listen to me for once."

Suddenly, Helga ducked behind a trashcan as she heard a car passing by with Olga's voice ringing out from it. "Baby sister, come out now! This isn't funny! How are we ever going to have time to get you looking your most adorable if we don't start right this second? Your boyfriend won't think you like him very much if your chaperone has to tell him that you were late because you were playing hide and seek! Helga!"

The car moved forward and the voice faded away. Helga stood up and breathed a sigh of relief. "Or, maybe I should have ditched Olga long before she put me in the position of having to bob and weave my way to Arnold's house while she drives through the entire neighborhood acting as a one woman search party for me! Crimeny, I'm surrounded!"

* * *

A few minutes later (and after several impressive maneuvers to avoid her older sister, though most of them were very close indeed) Helga found herself at the corner of Vine Street.

"Perfect, now all I've got to do is make it to Arnold's door and I'm home free!"

All of a sudden, Helga heard the screech of tires and whipped her head around. "There you are, baby sister! I finally found you! Now, enough games—while you were gone I wrote down everything we'll need to make this the most perfect day ever for you! Oooo, I remember my first date!"

Olga had just pulled up on the other side of the street upon spotting Helga. Helga fought back a scream and bolted for the nearest alleyway in a last ditch effort to escape her sister. '_I've gotta find a way to get into Arnold's without her seeing—otherwise she'll know where he lives and then…Oh, I can't even think about it!' _Images flashed through Helga's mind of Olga knocking on the door with a ribbon and bow adorned party dress in one hand and a make-up bag in the other, telling Arnold that he had to be a gentleman with her 'baby sister', pulling out the photo album with the baby pictures…

Helga shook her head to clear these horrible thoughts from her mind—she had to focus on getting to Arnold's without Olga noticing. "I've got it! The fire escape! I'll just duck down the alley alongside the boarding house and, when Olga passes, I'll climb it and hide out on the roof until she's gone. Then I can sneak back down to the ground and go through Arnold's front door! Perfect!"

Making sure that her sister wasn't looking in her direction, Helga sprinted as hard as she could to Arnold's alleyway and flattened herself against the brick wall, praying that she wouldn't hear the familiar sounds of her sister finding her again. Luckily, a few seconds passed and all Helga heard was Olga's calls growing farther and farther away as she moved up the street.

Quickly, she ascended Arnold's fire escape, relieved that her plan had actually worked.

* * *

SLAM!

"OUCH!"

"OUCH!"

Arnold lay sprawled on his roof, rubbing his head. He had just collided with something very hard as he made his way out of his skylight and onto roof above. Without thinking, and still feeling a little woozy, he said, "Lila?"

He heard a low and very familiar growl which sobered him up instantly and caused him to open his eyes wide in fright.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Football Head." Helga stood up and dusted herself off, but then suddenly her eyes widened and she crouched down, pulling Arnold with her.

"Helga," he questioned, a look of confusion on his face, "what are you doing?"

"SHHH!" she held her finger to her lips and, without question, Arnold remained silent and listened.

Still curious, though, about what was going on, he finally asked again, "Helga, why are we—"

She put her hand over his mouth to silence him and quickly explained. "Olga's trying to find me, and if she sees me up here then…" Helga paused, unwilling to reveal the embarrassing misunderstanding that had occurred between the two girls such a short while ago, "well, let's just say we'll both regret it!"

For the next few seconds both ten-year-olds remained in complete silence, crouched on the roof of Arnold's house. Helga, at first absentmindedly but then because she was enjoying the feeling of his lips against her skin, continued to keep her hand against Arnold's mouth. And, despite the fact that he wasn't planning on saying anything that might give Helga's whereabouts away to Olga Pataki, Arnold continued to let her hand reside there. In fact, he thought it was almost funny all of the trouble she was going through about this and did his best to stifle a laugh about it.

Finally, Helga let out a deep breath. "Okay, it sounds like her car's gone, or at the very least like it's reached the end of the street." She smiled, but just as both fourth graders were about to stand up, effectively exposing themselves, Helga's eyes widened as she heard a perky voice yell up from the street below (apparently, Olga had doubled back along the street for one more chance at locating her baby sister). "Helga, if you don't come out right this minute I'm going to tell Mummy and Daddy that I don't think you're responsible or mature enough to be allowed to go on your date today!"

Helga closed her eyes and smacked herself in the forehead with an open palm, dragging it down her face in exasperation. After a few seconds, the sounds of Olga's car finally died away along with her voice.

Both ten-year-olds stood up. Finally, Arnold broke the silence. "So," he said in a somewhat forced voice with his eyes oddly downcast, "um, who do you have a date with, exactly?"

It took Helga few moments to process what this question meant. '_No way. Even __he's__ not that dense…there's no way he doesn't realize that she was talking about him and me! Oh, this is too good! Hey, I should…' _Helga had a brief fantasy of telling Arnold that she was going on a grand outing with some sort of mystery lover in a desperate attempt to make him jealous. A small smile came to her lips as she seriously considered this course of action, and her eyes took on a half lidded gaze.

Arnold observed her curiously. '_Wow, look at her face…she must really like this guy…' _As this thought occurred to him, Arnold felt a strange tightening sensation in his stomach and he couldn't help wondering in the back of his mind, '_I wonder if she 'loves' him too…'_

Helga continued to entertain this new idea for another moment, but then shook her head as her thoughts came back to reality. '_Oh, why bother; Arnold would actually have to 'love' me to be jealous about someone else…Besides, it'll probably just blow up in my face anyway and I don't want to waste my last few hours of alone time with Arnold digging myself deeper and deeper into a pile of lies.'_

Helga smiled proudly to herself; only a few months ago she would have acted on a plan like that fantasy-date one without a moment's hesitation. '_And Olga thinks I haven't matured—hmph!'_

Helga cleared her throat, realizing that Arnold was still waiting for an answer. "Don't worry about it, Football Head, it's just a…misunderstanding." She gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked over to an empty lounge chair at the center of the roof, seating herself in it with a contented sigh.

Arnold followed her and sat on the lounge chair next to her, his voice still tinged with a bit of resentment though he was trying his best to hide it. "Well, there must be something to it if she was chasing you all over the neighborhood like that?"

Helga blushed slightly but tried to turn her face away so that Arnold wouldn't notice. "Football Head, it's really nothing…don't worry about it."

Arnold's face took on a look of disappointment and he frowned as he stared up at the sky. '_Maybe that poem really wasn't for me…maybe it was for the guy she's seeing tonight…' _He sighed mentally. '_Oh well, I should be happy, right? I mean, now I don't have to bring the poem up with her. And I should probably just put the whole FTi thing behind me too...Who knows? Maybe in the heat of the moment she wanted to say all that stuff to __that__ guy but I was the only one around…' _He sighed mentally. '_Maybe I should just tell her I'm not feeling well and that I'll just see her tomorrow in school…'_

As Arnold's thoughts progressed his expression involuntarily became sadder and sadder. Out of the corner of her eye Helga noticed this change come over him. '_What's wrong with him…Does he think I'm lying or something?'_ Finally, she just couldn't stand it anymore, and her desire to see her beloved happy superseded her fear of humiliation. She took a deep breath, began nervously twiddling her thumbs, and calmly said with a blush in her cheeks, "Yeah…um…see, I told her I was going over to a friend's house to study and she asked me which friend and I told her you and…well, she kind of went a little nuts and got this crazy idea that I was coming here for a date…heh, heh…funny, huh?" She attempted a grin in Arnold's direction but felt so nervous about how he might react to what she had just told him that she could barely stand to glance at him any longer than a moment (though she continued to peek at him out of the corner of her eye).

At first, Helga heard only silence from Arnold, but then an unexpected sound met her ears. Arnold was chuckling to himself and his laughter was growing stronger.

Glad that she had cheered him up, but a little hurt that he seemed to think the idea of a date with her was such a comical thing, Helga shot back in a humbled tone, "Well, thanks, Arnold-o—I'm glad you think the idea of going out on a date with me is such a 'riot'!"

Arnold managed to control his laughter, and a smile replaced his former melancholy look. "Sorry, Helga, I didn't mean that, honestly. I just think it's funny that you managed to convince your sister that you were on a date to the point that you had to sprint all the way here, scale the side of my house, and then make me crouch down on the ceiling with you until she was gone."

Arnold broke into another fit of laughter, and pretty soon Helga found herself trying to stifle a few hearty chuckles too. "I guess it actually is a little funny, Football Head…All that stuff isn't the best part though!"

Arnold laughed. "Well, what is the best part?"

Helga tried to contain her laughter as she sputtered out, "She wanted to take me dress shopping first, and then she wanted to take me back home and put up my hair and put a bunch of make-up on me! And then she wanted to chaperone me while I was here!" Helga reclined back in her seat, holding her stomach as the hilarity of the situation overtook her. "Imagine; me all dressed up with hair my done at some froo froo salon, and make-up too—Sheesh, I haven't even tried something like that since last Valen—"

Helga immediately shut herself up, '_That's it; I'm getting way too comfortable around him! I can't let myself slip like that—Crimeny, I hope he didn't catch what I just said!' _Helga snuck a glance over at Arnold but he seemed too caught up in his own laughter to have noticed her slip, and she gave a small sigh of relief at his ignorance. '_Alright, Helga, old girl, I know you're having a fun time and everything but you're letting him get way too close to you if you've started accidentally saying things like that. It's time to give him just a little push away again.'_

Reluctantly, but seeing no other way to not start accidentally spilling her guts to Arnold, Helga was about to resume her defensive attitude again ('_Maybe I can act like I'm still mad that he's laughing so hard about the idea of having a date with me—yeah, that's it!')_ and throw some generic insults at the laughing Football Headed boy beside her.

All of a sudden, though, a question from Arnold cut her short. "I just don't understand," he said between his chuckles, which were now finally subsiding, "how she could've gotten the wrong impression?"

As if in answer to Arnold's question, some disgruntled yells began to sound from the street below. Arnold and Helga looked at each other with curious stares and then approached the edge of the building. Arnold's eyes widened at the sight below him: the boarders were all outside, glaring up at the roof and pointing.

"See, I told you guys I heard sounds from up on the roof…and look, there he is with his little girlfriend. I am very hurt that you'd think I would lie, Ernie."

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't be the first time you told us some cockamamie story to clear us all out of the kitchen so you could swipe everything from the fridge you could get your hands on, Kokoschka !" Mr. Potts stopped glaring at Oskar and instead turned his gaze (which now looked more impatient than anything else) on Arnold. "Hey, Arnold, you wanna finish your date? Fine—bring her downstairs to help count bricks! The 500 Club's gonna be here any minute!"

"Arnold, I already finished the reupholstering but I need you to help me reline the kitchen cabinets! Your girlfriend can pick the color and you can stick them on!"

"Arnold, could you at least let me up to the roof after your date's over so I can hang some things on the line to dry? Oh, hi, Helga, sweetie!" Suzie Kokoschka waved to Helga and shot her a friendly smile.

Helga gave a small wave back, the grin on her face slowly broadening throughout this entire exchange until it was now ear to ear. Blushing, she turned to Arnold, who was staring down at the rest of his crazy yet lovable family with his mouth slightly agape. His face was a bright fiery red and he seemed in total shock.

Helga slapped him on the back, trying to stifle a fit of giggles. "Well, Football Head, I think I should be asking you the same question!"

Arnold faked clearing his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment. Helga walked back to the lounge chair, seating herself upon it again. She remained silent for a moment, wanting to give Arnold a chance to collect his thoughts, then asked in a casual voice, "So, how exactly did that," she jerked her thumb in the direction of the boarders, "happen?"

Arnold turned back to her and cleared his throat a final time, still refusing to look directly at Helga for embarrassment. "Well…um…you see they all got a bit angry because—"

Suddenly, there were more shouts from the street below. Arnold was silent and instantly the yells became clear.

"Helga! Helga! Hey, come here for a second!"

"Yes—Arnold's girlfriend, please come here!"

Intrigued at the fact that the boarders seemed to be calling to her, Helga walked back over to the ledge and leaned against it with a curious and mildly entertained look. "Yeah, what is it?"

Mr. Potts stepped forward first. "Hey, listen—Arnold promised to help us with a bunch of stuff before but he ditched us all. And then when we found him he managed to barricade himself up there so we couldn't get him! If you let us in on how you got up so we can come up too and bring him back down here, we'll make it worth your while!"

Arnold genuinely felt like he was going to pass out. '_I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe they all just accused Helga of being my girlfriend and I can't believe they just offered to bribe her to give me up.' _He glanced at Helga, who was still grinning at the boarders. '_There's no way she'd give me up though…not if she loves me, right? She'd __want__ to spend time with me. I don't care if she's the school bully: she couldn't…she wouldn't…'_

Helga leaned her right elbow on the ledge and reseted her head upon her hand. "I'm listening…"

Arnold swallowed hard and whipped his head around to face her in terror. '_Oh no…'_

The boarders smiled. Mr. Potts spoke up again. "You let us in on your little secret for getting up there and I'll give you twenty bucks plus all the semi-hazardous explosives from my stash that you can carry."

Helga didn't even glance at Arnold, who was giving her a very pleading look. "Hmm…interesting…what else ya got?"

Mr. Kokoschka piped up. "I'll give you Suzie to clean your house for a week for free…Okay, maybe for tips, and money for gas and food…but other than that she's all yours!"

"Oh Oskar!" snarled Suzie, "I'm not some slave for you to give away! Besides which I don't care if they stay up there to study—I just want to get up there when they're done to hang these things up!" She motioned to a basket of wet clothes that she had propped against her hip.

Mr. Huynh stepped forward, addressing Helga. "I can give you as much free food from the restaurant I work at as you want—they have very good chicken wings and fries!"

"Very tempting," Helga crossed her arms and smiled slyly. Then she finally gave a momentary glance to Arnold who, at this point, seemed genuinely terrified. Helga quickly turned back to the boarders. "But I'm not convinced…Arnold really is a special commodity…"

She put her arm over his shoulder, which caused Arnold to let out a deeply humiliated sigh and slap his open palm against his forehead, dragging it down his face.

"Oh come on," Mr. Potts urged, constantly checking his watch as he was very concerned about having things set up before his fellow club members arrived, "how good of a date could he be?"

There were some murmurs of assent from Mr. Kokoschka and Mr. Huynh, followed by muffled laughter.

Helga continued to smirk, although at this point she was blushing slightly herself.

Arnold had had enough. All of a sudden he announced in a nervous voice, "Okay, Helga, I think we should get started now…uh, let's go!" He quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the ledge.

From the ground below another shout reached both of their ears, courtesy of Mr. Potts. "Hey, we're just saying, don't expect too much; it's not like he's had a lot of experience with girls."

'_Come on, just a little farther!'_ Arnold was pulling Helga closer and closer to his skylight, trying to ignore the final cries from the boarders below.

Suddenly, Mr. Kokoschka cried out, "You know what, I bet he's not even that great of a kisser!"

Suzie hissed back at her husband, "Oh, Oskar, be quiet, I'm sure he's a fine kisser—Leave the poor boy alone!"

Mr. Huynh piped up, "I agree with Suzie, Arnold is a very nice boy and I'm sure he is a fine kisser!"

Mr. Potts interrupted in an intrigued voice. "You know, I'll take a piece of that action—I'll bet you five bucks she says he's a lousy kisser!"

"I'm in too!" cried Oscar, grabbing a five dollar bill from his wife's pocket before she could stop him.

"Me too!" seconded Mr. Huynh, pulling five bills from his wallet with an eager grin on his face.

Trying to stifle his laughter, Mr. Potts shouted up toward the roof before Helga and Arnold were out of earshot, "Hey, Helga, is…uh, what did you call him—'Football Head'? Yeah, that's it! Is 'Football Head' a good kisser?"

Arnold almost collapsed from nerves. He fumbled with the latch to his skylight, his hands shaking the entire time. '_Please don't answer Helga! Please ignore them! Please!'_

Suddenly, Helga turned around, still grinning maliciously, and began to shout back, "Well, ACTUALLY…"

"OKAY, Helga, let's go to my room now!"

Arnold had finally gotten the pane of glass open, and he pulled Helga inside with him…but, unfortunately, not before a final comment from below reached their ears courtesy again of Mr. Potts. "Whoa, Arnold," he chided in a sarcastic voice, "I don't know if you're quite ready for that step yet!" A chorus of laughter followed this statement, which was instantly cut off as Arnold closed and locked his skylight door behind him.

* * *

**A/N: **

Whew! Okay, are you ready for Chapter 6?! Helga's got plenty to say about what just happened, Arnold's desperate to keep her around (at all costs) until he can finally work up the nerve to bring up the FTi incident again, and when's Lila coming back? Refill on snacks and keep truckin' through ridiculously long update :D


	6. Easy Like Sunday Morning!

_Reposted with grammar edits 1/4/2010._

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* * *

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**A/N:**

Oh geez, this is getting intense, isn't it?! If you've managed to read straight through the last chapter and are going to read straight through this one without a break, I SALUTE YOU, SIR! I was literally writing for 12 hours straight yesterday to finish this up :) All right, are all your snacks resupplied, have you taken a bathroom break, are you PSYCHED!? Okay, let's keep going because just as my hands have my fingers have been worn to the bone typing this, Arnold is about to get pretty worn out too in his quest to confront Helga (you'll get what I mean in a little while ;) ) LET'S BEGIN!

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 6: **

**Easy Like Sunday Morning!**

* * *

Arnold collapsed onto his bed, still completely flushed, and breathed a sigh of relief that possibly the most humiliating moment in his life was finally over. Helga, on the other hand, was rolling across his bed in a fit of laughter.

Arnold looked at her with his eyes narrowed and said in a very stiff voice, "It's not funny, Helga."

Helga was almost crying she was laughing so hard. "Are you kidding me, Football Head? You give me grief about Olga just coasting by in a car and now you're trying to tell me that in comparison 'that' wasn't HILARIOUS! No dice, Arnoldo—that was absolutely priceless!"

Arnold walked over to his couch and slumped into it with his arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah, well…at least _I_ didn't offer to give you up to Olga in exchange for some free stuff."

Helga sat up, her laughter finally subsiding. She looked at Arnold with a playful smile. "Oh, come on, Arnoldo—you didn't actually think I was going to tell them about the fire escape, did you? I was just having a little fun…" She sighed. "Look," she walked over to the couch and sat next to Arnold who was still sulking, "You laughed at me and I laughed at you; now we're even, okay?"

Arnold's expression remained stiff except for a questioning eyebrow he raised at Helga.

She rubbed the back of her neck guiltily. "Okay, okay…maybe not 'exactly' even." '_I guess I did kind of milk that a bit…he actually looks angry!'_ "Look, I owe you one, alright, Football Head?"

She held out her hand and, reluctantly, Arnold shook it, the smile returning to his face. "I guess it was _a little_ funny…"

Helga smiled back at him. "So, uh," she reclined back in her seat, trying to sound casual, "How did they all come to the conclusion that we're an 'item', exactly? And why, again, were they looking for you in the first place?"

Arnold sighed. "Well…" Arnold explained to Helga how he had woken up late and, in his rush to finish his morning chores before she arrived, had sort of abandoned the boarders and their random odd jobs (conveniently leaving out the contents of the dream that had caused him to sleep in, and actually forgetting his brief encounter with Lila from that morning).

"So, you see, they're all a little mad at me…Come to think of it, that's probably why they even said all that stuff back there." He motioned to the ceiling above.

Helga looked very intrigued. "Wow Arnoldo—that was sneaky, underhanded and downright rude." She clapped her hand on his shoulder. "I'm impressed! If I didn't know better, I'd think I was starting to rub off on you a little."

Arnold blushed.

"And what's more surprising," she added quickly while she still had the nerve, "you did it all just to spend time with me…I'm touched Football Head." Helga couldn't help but grin slightly at this last thought, though she tried to cover up her sincere happiness by playfully punching Arnold in the arm.

Arnold chuckled, his melancholy now thoroughly gone, and, without thinking, replied, "Oh come on, Helga you're not 'that' bad."

Helga crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him a suspicious look, unsure of whether she should be angry at the tone of sarcasm in his voice or elated that he seemed to be suggesting that he liked spending time with her.

Arnold, noticing her change in attitude, quickly attempted to explain himself. "I just mean that you don't give yourself enough credit." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I mean, sure, you can be bossy and pushy and a little rough around the edges…but you can also be helpful and funny and a really good friend."

Arnold smiled at her with a half lidded gaze and Helga's face bore a stunned expression. Shocked at what she had just heard from her beloved's mouth, she merely managed to stutter in reply, "Oh! Um…well, th-thanks Arnold…"

She blushed slightly and turned her face downward in hopes that he wouldn't notice or that he would at least stop staring at her with that sultry look. For a few more seconds, however, he continued doing just that as though he was lost in some sort of daydream. Finally, Helga couldn't take the silence anymore and cleared her throat, hoping that that would snap Arnold out of it.

At the sound, Arnold blinked and his thoughts came back to reality. It had just been so nice to watch Helga sitting there looking almost embarrassed about receiving a compliment—the way her cheeks had pinkened and her blue eyes had widened…

Roused from his thoughts and realizing that he had just been staring at Helga for almost half a minute straight, Arnold blushed too and faked clearing his throat to buy himself some time to come up with something to say. "So, um…" he fished for a topic to revive the conversation, "how did you know about the fire escape, anyway?"

"Huh?!" Helga sounded startled and jumped so badly that she nearly fell off the end of the couch.

Instantly, Arnold regretted the question, though he wasn't sure why.

He repeated it, unable to think of anything else to do. "I was just wondering how you knew about the fire escape leading up to my room? No one's used that thing since—" Suddenly, a memory resurfaced in Arnold's head from a few months prior: a chilly winter night when he'd woken up to a loud crash outside of his skylight door and had gone to investigate it, only to find Helga and Phoebe standing on the fire escape landing in their pajamas.

"Oh wait, I remember now—you and Phoebe climbed it one night last winter." He waited for a response, a slight smile on his face.

In a listless voice, Helga replied, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You remember, Helga—I asked you what you were doing up there and you said that you were just 'taking a walk on my fire escape'?"

"Arnold," she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "can we just forget about—"

"Oh, come on, Helga! The least you could do is tell me the real reason why you were up there."

"I told you we were just taking a wa—"

He shot her a smug look. "So, you admit it—you were up there!"

Helga's face settled into a frustrated scowl. "Look, Arnold, it's not important—"

"Come on, Helga, you said you owed me one!"

Helga gave an exasperated sigh and then, after a moment's silence, her face finally fell into a look of complacency. "Fine…look, me and Phoebe were only up there because…well…I was sleepwalking, okay!"

"Oh…" Arnold tried very hard to stifle his laughter but it was no use: he broke into another giggle fit. '_Wow, she must really think about me a lot to end up sleepwalking to my house! I'm surprised I didn't find out her secret then…' _Arnold thought back to that night and remembered that, in the grogginess of his half-sleep as he was about to open the skylight and see what was out there, he had thought he'd heard something like his name and a strange sighing sound, though he had dismissed both noises as figments of a dream or just the sounds of the winter wind blowing through the alleyway below.

Helga glared at him. "Okay, now we're even, Football Head! So, whenever you're done laughing at my expense I'll just be waiting here!" She folded her arms in front of her chest again and turned away from him.

Arnold managed to get his laughter under control and placed one of his palms on Helga's shoulder (which he noticed, instantly went from tense with anger to relaxed and compliant in his hand). "I'm sorry, Helga…but you know you could have just told me that that night. You didn't have to keep it a secret."

"Yeah, well," Helga's anger was softening under the touch of her beloved, and she knew that he knew it, "it's not like it was any of your business, Football Head!" She'd wanted her voice to sound tough and commanding but it only came out as childish and stubborn. '_Oh, for Pete's sake, why do his hands have to be so warm and soft and…Snap out of it, Helga! __Don't__ let your guard down again! You're being way too chummy with him—it's time to let him know who's boss just like you were planning to do on the roof.'_

Helga was about to pull herself away from him and shoot him the first insult that came to her mind, when Arnold cut her off. "So…I guess we should get started, then?"

"Huh…?" Helga lost her train of thought.

"With the tutoring, I mean…" '_Why does she seem so hap—oh, right.' _Arnold became aware of the fact that his hand was resting on Helga's shoulder, and removed it, blushing slightly.

Remembering, suddenly, why she was here in the first place (to tutor Arnold at the request of Mr. Simmons), Helga dismissed her plans for insulting Arnold and merely replied, "Oh…um…yeah, sure, Arnold."

Arnold smiled at her and then stood up and walked over to his desk to search for the notebooks they had been using yesterday. He found them, grabbed a couple of pencils, and returned to Helga who was looking up at the clear blue sky through his ceiling.

He handed her a notebook and one of the pencils. "Here, Helga."

"Um, thanks, Football Head." She took the notebook and Arnold noticed that she had an uncomfortable look on her face, almost as though she was fighting the urge to do something.

Inside, Helga was in fact having a battle with herself. '_Come on—he's actually having a good time with you! Don't go and ruin it like you always do just because you don't want him to get too close! But, yesterday he almost brought up my,' _she gulped,_ 'confession…What if he tries the same thing today? I CAN'T let that happen! No, it's just not the right time to talk about that yet. Still, he doesn't seem to be trying to talk about it now…and it's not like anybody else is around to see. That's it—I'm not going to start pushing him away just because I don't want to deal with the fact that he knows. At least he's spending time with me, which is more than I deserve considering how I've treated him all these years…'_

"So," Arnold began, figuring he'd better not pry into whatever she was thinking about just in case she got angry with him again, "do you have any more suggestions for my poetry? That stuff we did yesterday was really helpful!"

Helga blinked and sighed, and then said in as kind a voice as she could muster, "Actually, Arnold, you really improved 100 percent yesterday…In fact, I still think you could just hand in one of those last few poems you did tomorrow. If I know Simmons, he'll give you an A for sure if he sees one of those." Helga smiled and, to her surprise, she was actually starting to feel relaxed and almost comfortable just sitting here and talking with Arnold: no ulterior motives, no secrets, no defensive reflexes—just sharing an honest opinion.

Arnold smiled at her. "You're the boss, Helga."

"Oh, Arnold," she said in a playful voice, reclining back on the couch, "you always know just the right thing to say."

Arnold chuckled, happy that she seemed to finally be comfortable. Suddenly feeling bold, he asked before he could stop himself, "Hey, Helga, did you write your poem for tomorrow yet?"

Feeling so relaxed, Helga began to respond entirely truthfully before catching herself mid-way through her reply. "Oh, I'll probably just use another one of my Arno—I, I, I mean…" Helga glanced around desperately. "Are no…are no…are no pencil sharpeners in this room?! Sheesh, Football Head, this pencil's duller than one of Simmons' science lectures!"

She jumped up, the allegedly dull pencil in hand, and swiftly walked over to Arnold's desk where she rummaged in the drawer for a pencil sharpener. Finally, she came across one and began grinding the pencil into it as hard as she could, hoping the moment would pass and that Arnold would let the incident go. '_Please, oh please, don't let him be able to figure out what I was about to say! PLEASE!'_

While Helga's heart pounded furiously in her chest at her close call, Arnold was very curious about her reaction to his question. He decided, however, to wait until she came back to the couch before he repeated the question.

After another minute Helga could no long fake sharpening the pencil (she'd hit the metal surrounding it's eraser at this point, and it was just impossible for her to continue twisting it any longer). With a nervous sigh, she finally returned to sit next to Arnold, making sure to avoid eye contact with him.

Arnold took a deep breath, knowing that it was now or never. "Um, sorry, Helga. Now, what were you saying about your poem?"

Helga hid her face behind her notebook, pretending to doodle something. "Um…nothing, Arnold. Just forget it…I did it last night. Anyway, get let's back to you—"

In a sincerely interested voice, Arnold asked, "What did you do it about?"

Helga had been trying to keep her defensive attitude under control but she was beginning to get sick of his questions. "Hey, _I'm_ tutoring _you,_ Arnoldo—that means _I _discuss _your _work, not the other way around! Got it!?" She scowled darkly and shoved her index finger in his face.

Arnold was a little surprised and quickly responded with a nervous gulp. "Okay, Helga…then, what do you want to discuss about 'my work'?"

Helga took a few deep breaths and managed to calm herself. "Nothing…It's great…I've taught you everything I can and the rest is all about your own talent and inspiration. You'll do fine come Monday…"

"Oh." Arnold was happy for the compliment but he also felt a bit of worry at the finality of her tone. '_What if she wants to leave before I get a real chance to talk to her?'_

As if in answer to his fear, Helga stood up and rubbed the back of her neck with her right hand. "Well, I guess I should probably get going then…" She gave a forced laugh. "There's not much more damage I can do around here."

Helga would have liked to spend more time with Arnold but somehow she felt it would be pointless and maybe even detrimental to their relationship. '_He really is a better poet now, and he's got everything he needs to pass the assignment…Besides, at least yesterday we had the tutoring thing as a barrier between us: if I stay without that, though, then we won't have anything to talk about. Things will just get more and more awkward until I finally can't stand it anymore and explode at him. At least if I leave now we'll be on good terms…'_

Sulkily, but knowing that it was the right thing to do, Helga began to make her way over to the skylight. Interestingly, she found she didn't even seem to care anymore about the possibility that Arnold still might have her latest poem (in fact, it hadn't even crossed her mind all day until now)—she was just happy that she had managed to help him out and that, at the very least, he might consider her a friend.

To her surprise, though, from behind her Arnold suddenly shouted, "Wait!"

He didn't know what he was going to say to stop her: he only knew that she couldn't leave…not yet… "Uh…do you need any help with your poem?" It was the only thing he could think of.

The question almost struck Helga as comical, and she found herself murmuring under her breath, "Oh, trust me, Arnold, you've helped with my poems enough…"

"What, Helga?" asked Arnold, a desperate look still in his eyes.

"Hmm?" She spoke up. "Oh, nothing, nothing. Erm…no, I don't think I need any help. Thanks anyway, though, Arnold."

Helga climbed onto Arnold's bed and prepared to ascend the steps to his skylight.

Thinking quickly, Arnold searched for something else to keep her from leaving. "Helga…do, um, do you like jazz music?"

Helga stopped in mid-step and turned to face him, an unsure expression on her face. "Um…I don't know. I've never really listened to it much…Why?"

'_Okay, at least she seems interested…I've just got to keep going with this.'_

"Well…I've got a pretty decent collection, and this great sound system," Arnold grabbed his room remote off of his desk and pressed a few buttons. Instantly, the lights dimmed and Arnold's stereo system lit up. Helga had barely noticed it before but now she observed how advanced it looked, and the number of speakers that were set up in different locations all around the room.

He cleared his throat. "What kind of music _do_ you like, Helga?"

Helga descended the few steps she'd managed to climb and sat back down on Arnold's bed, a cautious tone in her voice. "Show Tunes."

Arnold's eyes widened in surprise. '_Do I have any show tunes? Maybe Grandpa has some old records downstairs…' _"Wow, really Helga, I never would hav—"

"Relax, Arnoldo, I was kidding." She cut him off in the same wary voice.

"Oh." Arnold's face fell. '_She doesn't want to be here, she just wanted to get one more laugh in before she left. What was I thinking…'_

Suddenly, though, Helga spoke again, though in a much more comfortable voice now that she had broken the ice with a joke. "Actually, I mostly like Alternative Rock and some Metal bands."

Arnold was happy that Helga was actually being honest with him but, at the same time, he felt a little crestfallen. '_I don't have anything like that in my collection, and I can't think of anyone in the boarding house who might have music like that either (not that I'd go back down there and try to fight my way through the boarders again)…There's got to be something though…'_

"Well," he began in a nervous voice, "maybe we can—" Arnold sat back down on his red couch, and accidentally hit one of the buttons on his remote. Suddenly, a Dino Spumoni song began resounding through Arnold's room—a recent duet he had made with his daughter Nancy Spumoni.

'_Sweetheart Swinger, come sing along with me!'_

'_Sad-eyed Swinger, come dance along with me!'_

"Oh, sorry, Helga."

Arnold fumbled trying to get the remote out of his pocket, but Helga held up her hand. "No, wait, I love this song!"

Arnold put the remote down on the end table next to his couch and looked at Helga in surprise. "Really? But I thought you said you only liked—"

She corrected him. "I said I 'mostly' like Rock and Metal…but I love Nancy Spumoni! And her father's not bad either."

'_Together we'll show the world that we can play!'_

'_We'll sing, dance, swing from midnight to the dawn of day!_

Helga sat back down on Arnold's bed, tapping her foot to the beat. Arnold smiled, relieved that he had finally found some connection with her. The song went into a long instrumental section, and he swallowed hard and nervously asked, "Hey, Helga… I have the whole album Nancy and Dino Spumoni did together, and some older Dino Spumoni records…You wouldn't want to stay for a little while and listen to them, would you?"

Arnold was almost too afraid to look at her, and he waited with bated breath for her answer.

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the wail of a swing band coming from Arnold's stereo. Suddenly, Helga spoke. "You…want me to stay, Arnold?"

She stared right into his eyes, like she was searching for something. Arnold finally looked back at her. "Sure Helga…if you want to, I mean."

"I'd like that, Arnold…" Suddenly, Helga became very aware of how open she was being with him, and added, "I mean, it's better than getting the makeover from heck from Olga, heh, heh…" She put her hands behind her back and gave him a nervous smile. The reaction made Arnold smile, which did more to make Helga feel comfortable with her decision to stay than anything else could have.

* * *

A few songs later, both fourth graders were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Arnold had played a couple more singles from Dino and Nancy Spumoni's duet album, and then changed over to Dino Spumoni's earlier stuff, which Helga had really begun to take to.

"Not bad, Football Head. What's the next song called?"

Arnold examined the album cover. "Let's see…Track 4, 'The Doll Can Swing.' Oh, that's one of my Grandpa and Grandma's favorites."

"Well, let's hear it then!"

Arnold smiled—he couldn't believe he'd actually gotten her to stay. '_I really do need to bring up the FTi building and everything with her, though, before she goes…'_ Still, every time he found an opportunity to do so, he hesitated—things were going so great and he didn't want to disturb this pleasant truce that had sprung up between them (he remembered how bad things had turned when he had tried to mention Helga's confession yesterday).

However, just as Arnold was promising himself (for the third time) that after the next song he would finally bring it up, his phone rang.

Arnold put down the remote and reached for the phone. "One second, Helga."

Helga leaned back on Arnold's bed. "Hey, I'm not going anywhere." '_Not when I can lay here and keep smelling that awesome shampoo on your pillows—Honestly, one of these days I've got to sneak into your bathroom and figure out what it is!'_

He picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey man, listen, don't worry—"

"Ger—," Arnold began in a surprised tone.

"Shhh, try not to sound so much like you don't expect to be hearing from me—Just listen!"

Confused, Arnold glanced toward Helga to see if she was watching him. However, she was resting against one of his pillows and had her eyes shut, a content smile on her face.

He turned back to his telephone conversation. "What is it?"

Gerald spoke quickly, "Listen, I heard from a reliable source that Helga's making you spend the day with her again today! I'm sorry, man!"

Arnold sighed. "Seriously, Gerald, I'm fine! We're actually having a goo—"

Gerald cut him off, still talking in a hushed voice. "But don't worry, man—I have a plan to get you out of it! See, I was watching this sit-com the other day and when I heard the bind you were in, I remembered something the characters in the show did to get out of a situation just like yours."

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Listen, Ger—"

"Just go with me on this, Arnold!" His best friend cut him off again, very eager about his 'brilliant' plan. "See, I call pretending I need you to do something for me or be somewhere that you're supposed to be. Then you just act like it's really important, and when we hang up you tell Helga that you have something to do that you completely forgot about until you got this phone call. Then you can get her to leave and she won't even know you're ditching her! It's _great_, isn't it!?"

Arnold lowered his voice in a whisper so Helga couldn't hear him. "Gerald, listen to me—I'm actually having a good time with Helga, and she's really helping me a lot! I don't want to 'ditch' her, so, please—no crazy plans to get her to leave my house."

There was a momentary silence on the line, followed by a very ominous, "Oops…"

Arnold's eyes widened. "Gerald, why did you just say that?"

"Well…"

"Gerald!"

"Look, in my defense man, I honestly didn't think you'd actually want to be spending time with Helga G. Pataki…You're sure you actually do want to spend time with her, right?"

"Yes, Gerald, I'm sure! You know, she's not some horrible person—she's one of our friends!"

"One of your friends, maybe…" Gerald mumbled back.

Arnold sighed in frustration. "Gerald, stop trying to change the subject! Now, what was that 'oops' about?"

There was another momentary silence and then Gerald timidly began, "Well…you see, I thought there was a chance that if you were out of the room, or busy, or out cold from a good right hook to the face or something, that Helga might accidentally answer the phone…"

Arnold's eyes narrowed. "And…?"

Gerald sighed on the other end of the line. "And…I sort of called some of our friends and told them to give you a call or stop by to get you out of being with Helga—you know, as backups!"

"GERALD!"

Arnold's voice had elevated. Suddenly, though, he remembered Helga was in the room and turned to see if she had heard. She was definitely paying more attention to him at this point: though she seemed to be playing with the pencil stub she had made a while before, her eyes were open now and she was occasionally glancing at him with a curious look on her face.

"Don't worry man, don't worry!" Gerald quickly said, trying to ease his best friend's concern. "I'll just call them all back and tell them it's off…That is, if you're absolutely SURE you don't want a way out of this?"

"Gerald…" Arnold was trying to keep his voice level but he was growing more and more impatient.

Gerald recognized the serious tone in his best friend's voice and didn't push the suggestion any further. "Anyway, don't worry about it, man—I'll take care of it. It might be too late for some of them though…"

Arnold sighed. "Well, just try, Gerald—please!"

"Don't worry, Arnold—I'll see you."

"Yeah, see you, Gerald." Arnold sighed as he hung up the phone. '_I know he was just trying to help, but I can't believe he did that without asking me first! Oh well, I'm sure he'll catch everybody before anything gets out of hand. And, besides, how many people could he have possibly told?'_

Arnold walked over to where Helga sat on his bed, snatching up the remote as he went. "Sorry, that was just Gerald…So, do you want to listen to the song now?"

Helga eyed him curiously but seemed to accept his answer and replied with satisfaction, "Hit it, Head Boy!"

Just as Arnold was about to press 'play,' though, he heard through the vent in his room the doorbell downstairs ring. He swallowed hard. '_It's probably nothing—just a salesman or something…But still...' _If it really was one of his classmates, he didn't want his grandparents or one of the boarders to answer the door and lead them upstairs to his room. '_What if Helga finds out what's going on and thinks that I was okay with it and that I'm not having a good time with her?' _Arnold knew that he was already on thin ice with Helga, and he absolutely didn't want to do anything to jeopardize this rare enjoyable moment between them (especially since he still hadn't gotten a chance [or rather, the nerve] to talk to Helga about anything yet.)

Reluctantly, he stood up. "Helga, I'll be right back…I just have to answer the door." He walked toward his doorway.

Helga sat up. "Aw, come on, Arnoldo—let someone downstairs get it!"

Arnold sighed with his hand on the door handle. "I'll be right back, Helga—I promise…and I'll try to bring some cookies too." Before she could protest further, Arnold had stepped onto his ladder and shut the door behind him.

The ceiling trap door connecting the ladder to his room with the second floor landing was still closed up tight against the boarders (Arnold had pulled the pull string that opened the door inside so that no one would be able to use it). Cautiously, he pushed down the door slightly, peering out to make sure the hall was empty. '_They've all probably forgotten by now…but, still, I should be careful…'_

Seeing that the hall was indeed vacant, Arnold pushed the door open completely, allowing his ladder to extend to the floor below. He climbed down and proceeded down the hallway and stairs until he was in the foyer. The bell rang again and, with a deep breath, Arnold opened the front door.

"Arnold, Darling!" Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd walked right in followed closely by her best friend and sidekick, Nadine. She put her arm on Arnold's shoulder and whispered into his ear, "Arnold, don't worry—Gerald told me all about your problem," she raised her eyes to the ceiling to indicate Helga upstairs, "and I'm here to help! After all, I owe you both one for helping model the insect outfits me and Nadine made during that project we worked on last term in class!" She winked, cleared her throat, and then yelled in a very loud voice meant to carry to Helga up in Arnold's room, "SO, ANYWAY, ARNOLD, YOU MUST REMEMBER HOW YOU PROMISED TO HELP ME AND NADINE MODEL OUTFITS AT THE CHARITY FUNDRAISER FASHION SHOW MUMMY'S THROWING AT THE COUNTRY CLUB TODAY! WE SIMPLY CAN'T BE LATE SO YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO CANCEL ANY OTHER ENGAGEMENTS AND COME WITH US RIGHT—"

"Rhonda, stop it!"

Rhonda dropped her voice back down to a whisper and smiled. "Don't worry, Arnold, even if she doesn't buy it there's good news—there actually _is_ a charity fundraiser fashion show at the country club that Mummy's throwing…and we do need one more model!"

Arnold sighed and pulled Rhonda and Nadine (who was holding several tuxedos and full length ball gowns in garment bags in her arms) inside, closing the door behind them. "Rhonda, I appreciate what you're trying to do but it's really not necessary! See—"

Faintly through the vent near the door, Arnold suddenly heard the unique ring of his phone upstairs. His eyes widened. '_What if it's someone else? What if Helga answers it?! I've got to get back up there!'_

He turned to Rhonda and Nadine. "Listen, just stay here and I'll come back and explain everything in a little while!" He positioned them down the hall as far from he vent as possible (so that Helga wouldn't be able to hear anything they might say from up in his room, that was if she hadn't already). Before they could respond, Arnold had bolted back upstairs (making sure to be on the look out for any of the boarders) and raced up into his room just as Helga was about to answer the ringing phone.

"I'll get it!" cried Arnold, and he raced forward and picked up the receiver, panting from his quick journey all the way from the first floor to the attic. "Hello?!"

"Hey, Arnold, listen—Gerald told me to call here and pretend like I need you to do something so you can get Helga out of your house. If you actually _do_ wanna help me free all of the mammals from the city aquarium, though, I'd really appreciate it!"

Arnold sighed. "Curly—listen, not now okay, uh…" Arnold glanced over his shoulder and noticed Helga eyeing him very suspiciously., "Just forget about it, alright?"

"But, Arnold," Curly began to whine, "Gerald said—"

Arnold lowered his voice to a whisper and turned away from Helga. "Forget what Gerald said! Look, Curly, I appreciate what you're trying to do but please don't bother—I already have Rhonda and Nadine downstairs, and who knows who else is planning on stopping by."

"RHONDA!"

Arnold had to pull the receiver away from his head, Curly's cry was so loud. "Yeah, but listen don't bother—"

Suddenly there was a click from on the other end of the line, and Curly's voice was replaced by a dial tone. Arnold hung up the phone and sighed again. '_I guess he got the message…I just hope Gerald gets in touch with everybody else before it's too late…'_

"Arnold, what was that all about?"

Arnold turned around to see Helga looking at him with a very mistrustful glare, her arms folded in front of her chest and her right foot tapping impatiently on the ground.

Arnold tried to think fast. "That was just…um…" Suddenly, the worst sound imaginable reached Arnold's ears, again courtesy of his air vent: the doorbell below was ringing again.

Arnold's eyes widened. "Uh…sorry, Helga. I'll be right back—I promise." He bolted back to the second floor landing and shut the attic door behind him again (having to hide behind a potted plant for a few seconds as Ernie led his 500 club down the hallway and into his apartment). Finally, when the coast was clear, he made his way down the stairs and back into the foyer, panting heavily.

"Arnold, where have you been?! And why do you look all," Rhonda crinkled her nose in disgust, "sweaty?!"

Arnold ignored her comment and walked forward toward the door, opening it with his left hand while clutching a stitch that had formed in his side with his right. There in front of him stood Harold, Stinky and Sid, smiling.

"Hey, Arnold!" Stinky began, "Gerald called us and told us you needed someone to give you an excuse to get out of working with Helga today, so we figured we'd stop by and see if we could help!"

"Yeah, but then we were thinking," piped up Sid, "that instead of trying to make up something to tell her…"

Harold finished his sentence for him, "We'd just pound her!" He smiled and punched his fist into his hand. Then he continued, "Or, at the very least, we could rope and gag her and leave her tied to a chair in the basement or something…" He scratched his head in thought. "I know we did that to someone here once…"

Arnold's eyes narrowed. "That was _me,_ guys. Remember, when you thought you had blown up the police station, you snuck into my basement to hide out and I was in there, and, so I wouldn't blow your cover, you left me tied to a chair with a sock in my mouth for two hours?"

Harold didn't even seem to pick up on Arnold's annoyed tone, but merely responded, "Oh, yeah! I remember now!"

Stinky stepped farther into the foyer. "So, do ya want us to do somethin' like that to Helga, Arnold?"

All three had eager looks on their faces, a fact which annoyed Arnold very deeply considering how much closer he'd gotten to Helga over the past couple of days. He shook his head. "Listen, guys, there's been a change in plans—I don't know what Gerald told you, but he was supposed to call you up and—"

Suddenly, Arnold almost collapsed as he heard his phone ring through the vent yet again. His eyes widened and he pulled Sid, Harold and Stinky deeper into the foyer to join Rhonda and Nadine. "Listen, guys, just stay here and I promise I'll come back and explain everything!"

Arnold took the steps two at a time (which was surprising considering how winded he was getting at this point), dashed through the hallway so fast that even if one of the boarders had seen him they wouldn't have been able to stop him, and pulled himself up the ladder and safely into his room as fast as possible.

Without even glancing at Helga (who's scowl was growing deeper and deeper) he dove for the phone and screamed "HELLO?!" into the receiver, his nerves almost completely shot.

"Hey man, this is your number, right, Arnold?"

Arnold recognized the voice instantly. "Oh, hi, Iggy…"

"Oh good, it's you…Look, Gerald called me and tipped me off that you might need someone to do you a solid since your stuck hanging out with," his voice gave and audible shudder, "Helga Pataki. So, I figured that I'd help you out since I still owe you one from the whole 'bunny pajamas revenge' thing—"

Arnold cut him off, having just heard the doorbell downstairs ring yet again. "Iggy, listen! Gerald made a mistake—" he was attempting to explain all of this in the lowest whisper possible, not even daring to turn around and see how intently Helga was listening in. "I've already got a bunch of people over here that I have to get rid of—"

"Oh, he meant to show up in person?"

"NO, WAIT, THAT'S NOT WHAT I—"

The doorbell rang again. "Don't worry, man, I get it!" Arnold heard the receiver click as Iggy hung up but, being worried about getting the door, he didn't have time to give his response a second thought.

"ARNOLD, HOLD IT!"

Arnold stopped dead in his tracks at the commanding tone of Helga's voice. He turned to her, a pleading look in his eyes. "Helga, I'm sorry, I just have to get the door one more time. I—"

"Arnold, what the HECK is going on here?!"

"I promise I'll let you know as soon as I come back!"

Again he bolted out of his room before Helga could argue, absolutely frustrated that he had to go through all of this trouble and risk hurting his relationship with Helga all because no one could seem to accept that she was a decent person.

Luckily, no one was in the hallway so Arnold was able to make a straight shot back to the foyer which now held a total of five of his classmates, all of whom were extremely bewildered.

Arnold thought for a moment before answering the door. '_Rhonda, Nadine, Sid, Stinky, Harold, Curly, Iggy…okay, there can't be too many more people! Maybe this is the last one!'_

Arnold barely had the handle turned on the door when it suddenly burst open and sent him flying against the wall.

"RHONDA MY PET, YOUR MAN HAS ARRIVED!!!"

"UGH, GET AWAY FROM ME YOU LITTLE FREAK!!!"

Curly had burst through the door, a clip-on bow tie at his collar and a handful of dilapidated dandelions in one of his fists.

"Oh, come on, Rhonda BABY! You know you want me!!!"

And, much to Arnold's dismay, Curly began chasing Rhonda down the entrance hall, knocking over side tables, a mirror, even a vase. However, Arnold didn't have much time to marvel at the chaos they had managed to create in only a few short seconds as he unfortunately heard his phone ring from upstairs yet again.

Arnold took a deep breath. "Okay—Harold, Sid, Stinky? You guys get a hold of Curly and stop him from chasing Rhonda around. Wait down here until I get back, got it?"

Everybody nodded and the three boys proceeded to grab Curly's arms and legs, effectively pinning him to the floor, though he kept making loud kissing noises with his lips directed at a thoroughly repulsed Rhonda.

Arnold raced upstairs without looking back (this time ducking into the bathroom to avoid being stopped by Mr. Huynh who was carrying several rolls of different colored cabinet liners underneath one of his arms). With barley any strength left, he pulled himself up the ladder and into his room, completely out of breath.

Suddenly, his eyes widened as he saw Helga making a run to grab the phone! He used the last of his energy in a final mad sprint and managed to snatch the receiver out of her hands, grinning sheepishly in response to the dark glare she was giving him.

"Hello?!"

"Oh, hello, Arnold—it's Eugene! How are you?"

Arnold sighed at the perky voice of his friend. "Actually, Eugene…"

"Oh, don't worry," came Eugene's sunny reply, "Gerald told me and Sheena all about your problem with Helga and we're here to help!"

Arnold closed his eyes in exasperation. "Eugene, please, that's not really—"

"Oh, we're _happy_ to be of assistance, Arnold! Now, Gerald told us to just call but we thought, considering the excuse we came up with for you, that it might be better if we showed up in person!"

"NO!!!"

Even Helga took a step back, her eyes wide with surprise at the desperation in Arnold's voice.

"Trust me, Arnold, it's really no problem. We're just around the corner! Well, see you soon!" And with that Eugene hung up.

Helga quickly recovered from her brief shock at her beloved's outburst and walked straight towards Arnold, pinning him against the couch. "Okay, that does it, Football Head! I wanna know what's with all these phone calls and doorbells, and I wanna know RIGHT NOW!!!"

Ironically, as Helga said this, the doorbell downstairs sounded yet again causing a look of panic to come into Arnold's eyes. "Helga, please, I promise I'll tell you as soon as—"

"NO WAY!" she pushed him harder into the couch, her hands against his collarbone. "I want some answers NOW!"

Arnold didn't want her to be angry with him but he couldn't bear the idea of her finding out what was going on and thinking that he had something to do with it, and getting her feelings hurt. Desperate, Arnold did the only thing he could think of to escape from her fiery grip…

He raised his arms and gently took her face in his hands. "Helga, don't you trust me?" he managed to squeeze out, though between already being winded and now having pressure right around his windpipe he could barely manage it.

Helga continued to stare daggers at him for a second or two, and at first Arnold thought that it hadn't worked. Suddenly, though, he felt her cheeks go hot under his skin and the pressure on his shoulders lightened considerably. Her eyes widened and for a moment she merely stared at him…then simply nodded her head as though she couldn't speak.

It was the only opportunity Arnold needed. He slipped out of her arms and removed his hands from her face as he prepared to race downstairs again. Before doing so, thought, he turned back and looked her directly in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Helga, and I promise I'll be back soon."

Once downstairs, Arnold paused against the wall for a moment to catch his breath and then finally made his way to the door. He opened it to find three new faces greeting him.

"Hey Arnold, what's up?" Iggy strutted in, acting as cool and confident as ever.

"Hell-ooooooooo, Arn-oooooold!" Eugene and Sheena came prancing in, and appeared to be performing to some choreography that they had made up themselves as they sang Arnold's name.

"Wow, are you having a party or something?" asked Iggy, as he eyed all of the people standing around Arnold's entrance hall.

With a touch of bitterness in his voice, Arnold replied, "Not exactly. They're all here because of Gerald."

Iggy smirked. "What? Did Helga not buy their excuses or something? Don't worry, Arnold, because I've got the ultimate one: I'll tell Helga that I need you to help me redecorate my room! There's no way she'll want to stand in the way of a cool project like that!"

"Um, excuse me!" Eugene walked forward, addressing Arnold with a smile on his face. "Actually, Sheena and I have been working really hard on our dance routine all morning and we'd like to take a crack at it first, if that's alright. You see, we figure we'll tell her that we need you to help us with a musical number we're trying to put together for next year's talent show. I'm sure she'll believe it since you had the biggest part next to mine in the school musical last winter."

"Oh yes, Arnold," came Sheena's high pitched voice, "I'm sure it'll work!"

"Hey, no fair, I was here first! I should get to try!" challenged Iggy in an annoyed voice.

"But we've been rehearsing for hours! Just watch!" But Arnold was too busy to notice Eugene and Sheena break into a song and dance as the sound of his phone ringing YET AGAIN caught his ears!

"Oh…" he groaned. Making sure the three of them were a safe distance from the vent, he grudgingly made his way back upstairs, no longer caring if every boarder came out at once and saw him.

Luckily, though, he made it to his room without incident and picked up the phone (not even bothering to notice or question why Helga hadn't just answered it herself if she was so concerned about who he was talking to).

"Hello…" he said in a flat voice.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry—I wasn't able to get through to anyone. Did you manage to let them know the plan's off?"

Normally, Arnold was a very patient person, but at this point he was at the end of his rope (and he happened to be talking with the very person who had put him there). "No, Gerald, I didn't. In fact," he lowered his voice to a whisper again, in case Helga was listening, "there's about nine of them downstairs in the hallway by my door!"

"Ouch…okay, man, don't worry! I'll be over in a minute and I'll get them all out of there!"

"Thanks Gerald…" Arnold's voice was getting calmer at the sound of this good news.

"As long as you're really sure you don't want one of them to just go up there and tell Helga…"

"GERALD, just come by and fix this! Please!" Arnold's eyes narrowed.

"Okay man, okay—just thought I'd check one more time."

Gerald hung up and Arnold breathed a sigh of relief. He was about to turn around to talk to Helga when, all of a sudden, he heard the doorbell ring yet again. '_That could just be Gerald…Maybe I should just leave him alone and let him take care of the mess down there. But…Gerald wouldn't use the doorbell…I guess there's at least one more person he told to come over.'_

Reluctantly, Arnold turned to head back to the foyer but involuntarily took a glance over his shoulder to see what Helga was doing. What he saw made him stop: she was sitting on his bed, her hands on her cheeks where his had been only moments ago. She had a half-lidded gaze and a small grin on her lips.

He approached her, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Helga?"

She didn't say anything, but a small sigh escaped from her lips that made Arnold feel very nervous about the consequences of what he had done. "Helga…?"

Her eyes came back into focus and she removed her hands from her face, though the dreamy grin still remained.

"Arnold, I want to tell you something…"

"Helga, I've just got to go downstairs one more time and then I'll be right back and we can talk, okay?"

Helga's face took on a look of disappointment and she opened her mouth as though about to protest, but Arnold was already out his door before she could even begin.

Down in the foyer things were getting awfully crowded and Arnold had to struggle his way through the many bewildered fourth graders to finally reach to door handle. He opened it and there stood Brainy, wheezing with a smile on his face. "Um…hi…"

Arnold sighed. "Did Gerald tell you to come over too?"

Brainy shook his head. "Um…no…"

Arnold's expression became confused. "Wait—then why are you here?"

Brainy continued smiling. "Um…I don't know…"

Arnold gave an exasperated sigh, rolled his eyes, and pulled Brainy deep into the foyer along with everybody else. He then left the entire group without a single word, intent on returning to Helga once and for all.

Arnold trudged through the empty second story hallway and dragged himself up to the ladder to his room, closing the door behind him, now thoroughly exhausted. (Though this time, in his haste, he forgot to pull the pull-cord for the attic door safely inside with him.)

He looked over to Helga who was still sitting on his bed in just the same state as he had left her, though the blush on her cheeks had deepened considerably.

* * *

Arnold didn't realize it but Helga had been doing some serious thinking while he had been busy running up and down the stairs trying to keep her from discovering what the rest of their classmates were up to. At first, she had been furious with his sudden (and strange) change in behavior until finally she had decided by the third time he had gone traipsing downstairs that she was going to sit him down and figure out once and for all what was going (or at least answer the next phone call before he could get to it). '_I don't know what he's up to but if he's trying so hard to keep it from me then it must be something big!'_

However, something had almost changed her plans entirely: Helga could still feel his warm palms on her face, the gentle sensation of being held by her beloved, and the tender look in his eyes as he had asked her in that velvety voice of his, 'Don't you trust me?' In that instant, all of her thoughts from the morning had returned: the memories she had experienced in her dreams of all the times she'd tried to tell Arnold she loved him and failed, the feeling of powerlessness from never having the courage to not only say what she felt but stick to it (that, she figured, had been the biggest problem with her confession on top of the FTi building), and the idea that she just needed to find the right moment to finally come clean once and for all. And then it had occurred to her right out of the blue—'_What better time than now_?' Now: when she was an invited guest in his house, when they had been having a genuinely good time enjoying each other's company (minus the last few minutes, of course), when she had been nicer to Arnold than she had been in months. Yes, _now_ might finally be the perfect time to admit to her beloved how she really felt about him!

After he had left her following this incident between them, though, Helga's curiosity had gotten the better of her. Thus, though she had told Arnold that she trusted him, she decided to pick up the phone anyway the next time it rang. '_Just to be sure_' she had thought to herself. So, while Arnold had been downstairs (unbeknownst to her, leading Iggy, Eugene, and Sheena into his entrance hall), Helga had waited patiently by the phone. All of a sudden, a call came through and before even the first ring had finished she had pulled the phone to her ear and said nervously into the receiver, "Hello?"

To her great surprise, Phoebe had answered back. "Helga? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me Pheebs. Uh…what's up?" Helga had replied in a curious voice.

"Umm Helga," Phoebe had started cautiously, "are you in…trouble…again?"

"Huh?" Helga hadn't been sure what her friend had meant.

"I mean…do you need me to call your mom and tell her that you're…um… 'spending the night at my house' or anything?"

Helga still hadn't understood for a moment, but then she remembered that she was in Arnold's room and on Arnold's phone. "Oh, no, Phoebe!" she had said, almost laughing at the misunderstanding. "No, uh, surprisingly I actually have permission to be here this time—Arnold's just busy at the moment and his phone rang so I figured I'd answer it, that's all."

"Oh." Phoebe's voice had sounded very relieved, and she hadn't been able to help but chuckle as well.

"So, did you need something, Phoebe?" Helga had asked, feeling very happy both due to her recent encounter with Arnold as well as the private joke that had passed between the two girls.

Phoebe had responded, "Well, actually, I've misplaced my homework assignment sheet and I've been calling around trying to find out which science chapter we're supposed to read for tomorrow. Strangely, though, every time I've tried to call one of our classmates, they've either not been home or I've gotten a busy signal…"

Just as stumped as her best friend (due to Arnold's hushed whispers, Helga hadn't been able to figure out the identities of the people calling him except for Gerald), Helga had informed Phoebe of the correct chapter and then said goodbye. She had smiled to herself. '_What was I thinking—Arnold keeping a secret from me! I knew I had nothing to worry about!'_

It had been at that precise moment that the phone had started ringing yet again. However, Helga, too distracted with her plans for a genuine confession, had not answered it that time but had waited for Arnold to come back up to his room again and get it himself.

After he had finished with whoever was on the other line this time around, Helga had attempted to sit Arnold down so that she could finally begin her 'real confession.' However, the doorbell ringing yet again downstairs had cut her off and forced Arnold to retreat to answer its call (this time, again unbeknownst to her, to let Brainy into the foyer along with the rest of their class). All the better, though, she had figured to herself while sitting alone, yet again, in his room. '_I need as much time as I can get to prepare!'_

* * *

Finally, though, Arnold was back again and she was going to tell him now or never.

"Arnold?" she piped up, barely daring to catch his eye. Her voice had squeaked a little and she cleared her throat in an attempt to make this nervous reaction go away.

Arnold sat himself on the bed next to her. "Helga, I'm really sorry…see, what happened was…" Arnold had no idea what excuse he should make or if he ought to just simply tell her the truth and hope that she didn't take it badly.

However, Helga cut him off before he had to choose. "It's not important, Arnold…I've, um, got something that I…that I need to tell you…"

Helga took a deep breath and all of Arnold's attention was on her. He had never seen her look so serious, so intense. '_Well…except for once…_' he thought to himself, recalling what had happened between them only a few weeks ago atop the FTi building.

Instantly, all of his fatigue was forgotten, replaced instead by his excitement about what Helga might be about to say. '_She's finally going to talk about it—she's finally going to explain everything…'_

Arnold had been waiting for it all weekend, but now that it was about to come he couldn't help but feel incredibly nervous: his heart was pounding in his chest, the expectation of what might be coming almost overwhelming him. He inhaled and exhaled deeply once, hoping to calm himself and mentally prepare for whatever might come next.

Suddenly, all heck broke loose.

Arnold's door burst wide open and in ran Rhonda being chased by a very excited Curly.

"EWWW!!! Get away from me you disgusting little troll!" She dove onto Arnold's couch and started kicking Curly away.

"Please, Rhonda—just give me ONE lock of your perfect hair! PLEASE!"

Following them were Harold, Sid, and Stinky, all panting heavily.

"Curly, get back here," yelled Harold between breaths, "we're supposed to be…guarding…you…"

"Yeah, Curly, quit bein' a dang fool!" Stinky took a few deep breaths and then continued his pursuit of the insane dark-haired boy.

Iggy strolled into Arnold's room. "Hey, nice pad you got here, Arnold!" He winked at him. "Maybe I _will_ actually let you help me redecorate my room."

Suddenly, Eugene and Sheena made their way up the ladder and through Arnold's door as well. "Guys, don't leave us behind! We can't rehearse our act if there's no one around critique us!"

And, finally, completing this procession came Arnold's possibly soon-to-be former best friend, Gerald, breathing heavily as he collapsed on the floor upon entering the room. "Guys," he croaked through heavy breaths, "I told you not to follow Curly up here…"

Suddenly, Gerald noticed Helga and Arnold sitting on Arnold's bed. His eyes widened. "Oops…"

As this entire scene was occurring, Arnold merely sat perfectly still with his mouth opening wider and wider as each new person entered his room, unable to believe the sight right in front of his eyes. '_This isn't happening…not now…'_

Helga was frozen as well, her mouth open as though stopped in mid-word, and her eyes opening wider and wider with each new addition to the crowd.

One by one, the other fourth graders besides Gerald began to take silent notice of Arnold and Helga and after a few moments no one, not even Curly, was moving.

Arnold turned to face Helga, who still seemed completely in shock. He took a deep breath. "Okay, let me explain—"

At the sound of Arnold's voice this time, Helga finally snapped. "THAT'S _IT_!!!"

She flew up from the bed, a deathly scowl etched across her face, her teeth gritted in rage, her fists clenched so hard her knuckles were turning white. "I WANT ALL OF YOU CHUCKLEHEADS OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!!!" She flew at Arnold. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE BIG IDEA IS, FOOTBALL HEAD, BUT YOU'D BETTER START EXPLAINING PRONTO!!!"

Helga was absolutely furious! Here she had been, finally ready to spill her guts to Arnold, finally ready to put aside all her defensiveness and fears, finally ready let him know everything and to come clean for the first time in seven years of secrets and lies…and all of a sudden every person in their grade was suddenly in his room staring right at her (and she had a pretty good feeling that it had something to do with the dozen or so mysterious phone calls and unknown visitors Arnold had received in the last ten minutes.) ''_Trust me, he says?!' 'TRUST ME!?' and this is what I get!?'_

Arnold looked terrified—he had been so close and now he felt he would be lucky if Helga ever spoke to him again. He stuttered, almost too in shock to form his thoughts into words. "I..I..I I'm sorry Helga…Look, what happened was…you see…It's just that—"

She stared daggers at him. " 'IT'S JUST THAT', 'IT'S JUST THAT', IT'S JUST THAT'," she repeated in a mocking tone, "IT'S JUST THAT APPARENTLY MY COMPANY WAS SO HORRIBLE THAT YOU FELT THE NEED TO DITCH ME UP HERE TO SNEAK HALF THE STUDENT BODY OF P.S. 118 INTO YOUR HOUSE RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE!!! AND THEN LIE TO ME ABOUT IT! OH YEAH, I 'TRUST YOU,' ARNOLD!! WHAT WAS I THINKING?!"

Helga was yelling so hard that her throat was starting to get a little hoarse. She lowered the volume slightly, but her tone continued to have a razor edge to it. "Is anybody else showing up that I should know about—Mr. Simmons perhaps, maybe Wolfgang, how about Peapod Kid?!?!"

"Um…excuse me, Arnold?"

Helga whipped around and Arnold's eyes widened as they rested upon Lila Sawyer standing in his doorway and looking very confused. Arnold swallowed hard—he had entirely forgotten that she was going to be stopping by.

"Lila…" he croaked out.

"I just came by to get my book, Arnold, your Grandfather let me in." She smiled, though it was a shaky gesture.

Suddenly, Helga's fury returned full force. "OH, THAT'S JUST PERFECT, ISN'T IT, FOOTBALL HEAD?!?! THAT'S JUST THE ICING ON THE FRICKIN' CAKE!!!" Helga knew her classmates must be confused about her extreme reaction to Lila's presence but she was so enraged at this point that she just didn't care.

"THAT'S IT, I'M OUTTA HERE!!!"

Arnold's shock broke at the sound of these words. "Helga, wait—don't—just let me explain—"

"SAVE IT!!" She shoved him back onto his bed and began to storm toward the door.

Suddenly, Gerald spoke up. "Hey, Helga, you can't do that to Arnold!"

There were murmurs of assent from the crowd.

Gerald continued. "It's not his fault, Helga—I'm the one who called everyone over here!"

Helga heard what he said but was too angry to even consider the idea that she might have been wrong blaming Arnold, regardless of whether it was true or not. "Oh, shut up, tall hair boy and get out of my way!"

Suddenly, though, the other kids began to crowd around her, all with annoyed looks on their faces.

"You're lucky Arnold even put up with you for one day!" announced Rhonda, her nose held up high in the air.

"Yeah, Helga, with a room this cool you should feel lucky Arnold even let you inside of it!" shouted Iggy, still very impressed with Arnold's room.

"They're right, Helga—you should be thankful Arnold took all that time out of his weekend to help you!" bellowed Harold.

Another murmur of assent echoed through the crowd.

Gerald interrupted them. "Guys, guys—Arnold's not the one tutoring Helga, Helga's the one tutoring Arnold!"

Suddenly, the expressions on the faces of all the kids changed from annoyed to confused.

"But, wait a minute," piped up Stinky, "Arnold's really darn smart. Heck, except for Phoebe he's probably the smartest kid in the class. Why would he need help from Helga?"

Helga glared at him. "Well, I'm not exactly an idiot myself, Stinkeroo!"

"But, seriously, Helga," Rhonda chimed in, "I just don't see what subject there could possibly be that you're more skilled in than our dear Arnold?"

"Maybe you should put those hideous glasses of yours on, RhondaLloyd," Helga shot back acidly, "they always seem to improve your vision!"

Lila cleared her throat and spoke up from the doorway. "Guys, I'm sure that Helga—"

"Oh, just stay out of this!!!" Helga roared, and Lila instantly shut up, looking petrified. Helga hadn't meant to shutdown the only person who, she suddenly realized, might have been her one defender, but at this point the insults were coming so fast from her classmates that she was completely on the defensive. And besides, it _was_ Lila…

She cast one final disdainful look at Arnold. "Well, it's been a real blast, Football Face, but I've had enough of being abused by our classmates. So, if you'll excuse me, I think it's high time we parted ways. You don't call me and I won't call you—you know the drill!"

But as Helga was about to make her grand exit, a very unexpected (and very unfortunate) person walked right through the door in front of her. "BABY SISTER!"

Helga just stood there, all smugness gone from her place. Absolute shock had taken its place, as was apparent from how wide open her mouth now hung at the sight of her older sister standing before her.

Olga looked very upset; she was tapping her foot impatiently on the floor and had her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Helga, I've been worried SICK about you! Imagine, leaving me like that and not even calling to let me know where you were—I was so worried!" She grabbed her little sister by the arm and began pulling her toward the door. "It's a good thing I ran into your little friend Gerald and he told me where Arnold's house was—he seemed as concerned as I was to know that you were here alone with that boy!" She pointed toward Arnold. Meanwhile, Helga glared at Gerald with fire in her eyes: she made a threatening motion across her neck with her index finger, and Gerald paled and gulped very hard.

Helga pulled her arm from Olga's reach. "Look, just forget it, Olga. I was just leaving anyway…"

"Yes you were!" announced Olga commandingly, "And I don't care how much help Arnold needs with poetry—there'll be no more da—"

It was bad enough that Olga had gotten the word 'poetry' out of her mouth in front of almost the entire fourth grade of P.S. 118, but Helga knew she'd never be able to live it down if she said the word 'date'. She pushed her older sister toward the door and managed to cut her off before it was too late. "I GET IT, OLGA! I'LL NEVER COME BACK HERE AGAIN! Now, let's go!"

"Hmph!" Olga seemed upset with her sister's attitude but Helga was thankful that at least she had finally shut up. Helga tried to block out any snickering that might be coming from her classmates, unable to bear the thought of her reputation being as utterly destroyed as she knew it now must be thanks to her sister's big mouth. '_Thanks to __my__ big mouth I mean—I knew I never should have told her anything. I'm so STUPID!'_

However, before they could begin to descend the ladder, four more familiar faces emerged into Arnold's room from the floor below.

"See, I told you it was finally open! Now let's see what the kid and that girl are up to up in here…"

Mr. Potts entered the room followed by Mr. Huynh, and then Mr. and Mrs. Kokoschka bringing up the rear.

Suddenly, the four boarders realized that they were standing in a room full of kids and one very flustered looking young woman.

Suzie spoke up first, a concerned expression on her face. "Oh. Arnold, I'm sorry—are we interrupting something?"

Oscar surveyed all the people around him. "Arnold, how could you do this? How could you throw a party and not invite us, your dearest friends? Or at least me…for some free food maybe…heh, heh, heh!"

"So, Arnold," started a slightly annoyed Mr. Huynh, "this is what you have been doing instead of helping us like you promised—throwing a party with your friends!?"

Ernie Potts whistled in amazement. "Are you kidding, Huynh? It's a wonder he even had time to collect the rent this morning if he was planning to throw a bash this big…"

"Mr. Potts," Arnold interrupted, "it's not a…I didn't…"

But Ernie wasn't even listening—he had just noticed Helga standing right beside him. "Whoa, Helga, are you okay?" Helga's vicious scowl made her look much different from the sly smiling girl he had seen only a few hours ago.

"No, I'm not and I'm leaving NOW!" she shouted to the room. She pushed Olga forward and then she herself turned to climb down the ladder leading to the floor below. However, she paused on the first step and addressed the boarders. "Oh, and in answer to your question from earlier this morning, Mr. Potts" she looked directly at Arnold, ice in her eyes, "Really, REALLY **LOUSY**!!!" And with that she disappeared down the ladder, dragging her sister as fast as she could toward the boarding house exit, hot tears threatening to stream down her face as she thought about how her one perfect moment had been so horribly ruined.

Back in Arnold's room, all were too stunned by what they had just seen and heard to speak. Most wouldn't even blink, but just stood stone still, their mouths slightly agape.

After a minute or so, Mr. Kokoschka broke the thick quiet by turning to Mr. Huynh and announcing in a proud voice, "Yay, you heard her—I win the bet! Pay up!"

It took all of Suzie's self-restraint not slug him.

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**A/N: **

WHEW! Dude, seriously if you just read both chapters straight through back to back without like going blind from staring at the computer screen for so long, I AGAIN SALUTE YOU! I hope you all enjoyed it, and please R & R (you reviews are what keep me going people during all my late nights writing crazy stuff like this ;) )!!! And thanks again to everyone who already has commented (I've been trying to reply to as many as possible—if you've been reviewing regularly and I haven't gotten to you, I'm sorry; believe me it was not intentional. Just let me know next time around! ;) )

Alright, the deal with the next part is this; I'm actually starting classes this Monday (I honestly thought I'd be done with this story before summer ended, but things didn't work out like that) so you'll have to allow me at least another three weeks (Azure129 ducks some random objects and rotten vegetables thrown at her), yes I said **three weeks** to get it up! Just give me some time to get back into the swing of college life (and to rest my poor fingers, lol).

Okay, I think that's everything (literally)! Catch you guys on the web!

AXH 4EVER:)


	7. Fights, Falsehoods, and Felonies, OH MY!

_Reposted with grammar edits 1/4/2010._

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**A/N:**

Whew! Well, I said three weeks and I actually think this is the 22nd day since I've updated, so I'm right on schedule :) Alright, here it is—Chapter 7 of "Tutoring Arnold!" I hope you guys really enjoy it—I got a few mixed reviews on the last chapter, but I looked it over again and decided not to change it; I kind of like where it's going and what's happening. I do try and explain a few reactions from the last installment in this one; we also see the beginnings of Mr. Simmons' 4th grade class realizing the 'error of their ways' (well…with a little help from one of my favorite characters who finally gets his moment ;) ), people get hysterical, arguments rage, things get broken, "…and then, a meteor will come and block out the sun, casting the earth into eternal darkness, and it will sleet and hail!!! And all will be doomed…" (whoa, sorry, I slipped into Helga's closing dialogue from 'The Big Scoop' lol ;) ). Anyway, I know it sounds a little dramatic, but there's some fun things in there too…oh yes, you'll see what I mean!

Okay, I've bored you all enough with my build up, lol :) Please, enjoy the chapter and thank you all for being so patient with me with the three week wait!

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 7:**

**Fights, Falsehoods, and Felonies…OH MY!!!"**

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"_What_? I was just asking about my money? Suzie, you're always talking about how I need to contribute to our income." Oskar jerked his thumb in the direction Helga had just gone. "Well, how am I supposed to do that if you don't let me collect the five dollars Mr. Huynh said he'd give me if she said that Arnold—"

"OSKAR, COME WITH ME NOW!" Suzie Kokoschka grabbed her husband by the wrist and pulled him towards the open door before he could say anything else.

"Aw, but Suzie, my five bu—" Suzie pushed Oskar farther down the ladder he was already ascending, and turned back to the remaining boarders and Arnold with a serious look.

"Arnold, I'm not sure what's going on here exactly, but…" her gaze turned downward and she sighed, "if Oskar or I had anything to do with it, we're sorry."

Arnold just looked at her, unblinking and too shocked by everything that had just happened in the last ten seconds to say anything just yet.

Suzie's gaze became hard again and she addressed Mr. Huynh and Ernie Potts. "We're _all_ sorry, _right_! _Sorry_ for giving Arnold and Helga such a hard time. And, unless Arnold thinks we can help in any way, we're going to leave him alone now so that he can fix whatever's happened here before it gets any worse than it already seems to be—_right_?" She folded her arms in front of her chest and tapped her foot impatiently on the soft blue rug, waiting for them to respond.

Mr. Potts and Mr. Huynh blushed slightly and averted their eyes downward. Mr. Potts rubbed the back of his neck and spoke up first. "Yeah…yeah we are." He turned to Arnold, who still appeared dumbstruck. "Sorry, kid…we didn't mean to upset her or anything…I mean, we were just tryin' to get back at you a little with all that stuff on the roof…"

Mr. Huynh nodded his head. "Yes, Arnold—we are very sorry if we have done anything to upset your gir—" Mr. Huynh was cut short by a deathly glare from Suzie, who was very much aware of the fact that neither Arnold nor Helga might not want their entire class to be in on the little 'joke' from earlier that afternoon.

Mr. Huynh cleared his throat. "I mean, your 'friend.'"

Both boarders trudged toward the open doorway and began to ascend after Oskar, Suzie watching them as they reached the floor and headed back to their separate apartments. Finally, she herself began to climb down to the landing below but not before addressing Arnold one more time. "Arnold, if you need any help…just let us know." She smiled and Arnold could only give a small nod to let her know that he had understood her offer and was grateful for her efforts just now. Suzie then disappeared from the doorway once and for all.

There was another moment of total silence…and then Arnold's eyes instantly opened wide as he finally emerged from the shock of the situation. "HELGA! WAIT A MINUTE, I'VE GOT TO STOP HER—"

Arnold began to push past his classmates in a desperate attempt to reach his doorway. '_It's okay, it's going to be fine! I'll just catch her before Olga drives away, and explain things to her, and then she'll come back here and—"_

Arnold stopped, panting, in front of his open doorway. '_And 'what'? She was finally about to open up…I just know she was. We were having such a good time…I've never had such a good a time with her—with ANYBODY—before. How am I ever going to convince her to talk to me __now__? I should have just told her the truth about what was happening…She'll never trust me again and I don't blame her…'_

Gerald, seeing the troubled and anxious look on his best friend's face, walked over to him and put his arm over his shoulder. In a concerned voice he whispered, "Hey, Arnold…are you okay?"

Arnold met his best friend's gaze. "Gerald, I have to try…I have to go after her and…and…" He pointed vaguely at the open doorway.

Gerald was a bit confused by his friend's sudden compulsion to chase after someone who (as far as he knew) hated Arnold's guts. He tried to lead him over to the couch, all the while addressing him in a very level voice. "Arnold, man, don't worry about it. I mean, she seemed a little mad but she didn't hit you or anything. I know you want to make people happy but if you go after her all you'll be doing is pushing your luck. "

Arnold stopped in his tracks, causing Gerald who had been leading him across the room to stumble forward a little. Arnold stared at him with disbelief on his face. "GERALD! You don't even know what—she could be—Gerald, I HAVE TO talk to her!"

For a moment both friends stood staring at each other, total disbelief on their faces.

Suddenly, the other fourth graders stationed around them finally began to break their silences.

"Oh, honestly, Arnold—Helga shouldn't have been so difficult in the first place! I mean, why even bother with her if she's just going to storm away every time people call her on that absolutely _atrocious_ attitude of hers? Am I right, Nadine, or am I right?"

Nadine, who had been holding several heavy garment bags (filled with a couple of ball gowns and a tuxedo) ever since the two girls had arrived, finally threw her load down onto the floor and responded in a winded voice, "Well…I guess…"

Rhonda smiled, cutting her off. "You see!"

"Yeah, listen to my sweetness!" Curly grabbed Rhonda in a bear hug from behind.

"UGH, IF YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" She flung him off and pushed him to the floor.

Eugene spoke up. "Gosh, Arnold, we didn't mean to hurt her feelings or anything, but you have to admit Rhonda has a point. Besides, Helga looked pretty happy to be going." Sheena nodded her head in agreement.

"Yeah, man, don't worry about it." Gerald gave his friend another reassuring smile and reached out for his shoulder again. "It's like Rhonda says: 'why bother?'" Gerald smiled at Arnold and was expecting to receive one in return, but Arnold only shook his head back and forth as though he just couldn't comprehend what Gerald considered a simple conclusion to the problem at hand.

Arnold opened his mouth to say something but, before he could, a mocking voice from the crowd suddenly piped up, "I know _why_!"

Arnold turned his head and saw Sid elbow Harold Berman. "He needs his 'poetry' tutor!" Sid winked. Stinky Peterson (stationed at Sid's other side) and Harold looked at each other in confusion for a moment, but then broad grins came to their faces.

Suddenly, Harold called out in a baby-voice. "Oooo, that's right—big tough Helga Pataki's a POOOO-ETTTTT!" He clasped his hands together in front of his chest and batted his eyelashes, and then erupted into laughter. "HA HA HA HA HA!!!"

Stinky brought his hand to his chin. "Well, what d'ya know! I never woulda' thought it—Helga's always goin' around yellin' at everybody and spittin' and fightin' and stuff, but the whole time she's been writin' poetry good enough to impress even Mr. Simmons!" He then started to laugh along with Harold. "I guess it _is_ pretty funny!"

All three boys were falling over each other with uncontrollable laughter.

"AWWWW…is big bad Helga Pataki SENSITIVE!" Harold roared out.

Sid wiped a tear from his eye. "Yeah, I bet she writes about flowers and puppies and all that mushy 'Dear Diary' stuff girls _always_ write about!"

"YEAH!" Stinky was doubled over, barely able to breathe at this point.

Meanwhile, Iggy had started smirking at their remarks from across the room and, now, he could no longer contain his amusement. "Man, that is definitely NOT cool—Helga's reputation is gonna be ruined!"

Sid stood up straight and attempted to control his laughter for a moment. In as high pitched and airy a voice as he could muster he yelled out, "Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and if I wasn't so dainty I'd _pound_ _you_.'"

"HEY!" Arnold's eyes narrowed in anger and he stormed over to Harold, Stinky, and Sid who were caught in another fit of hearty chuckles.

Not noticing Arnold's approach, the boys only continued joking with each other. Arnold raised his voice and addressed them again. "STOP IT!" Instantly all three instantly became silent and stared at Arnold with surprised expressions; they had never heard him sound so angry.

And indeed, at this point, Arnold was scowling and his hands were clenched at his sides—two very unusual gestures for our football-headed young hero. "You guys have NO IDEA what Helga writes about. In fact, she's written some really wonderful things…beautiful things…and you don't have any right to—"

A snobbish voice from across the room cut him off. "Arnold, _please_! I don't know _what_ Mr. Simmons was thinking but there's no way Helga's got a sensitive bone in her whole body! I mean, the girls' practically barbaric!"

Arnold whipped his head around to face her, anger and frustration building up inside of him. "Rhonda, leave Helga alone!!! You have no idea how many brilliant things she's written—"

Rhonda scoffed. "Oh yeah, 'brilliant things' about what?!"

Arnold instantly turned a very noticeable shade of scarlet and felt the strength of his anger momentarily subside into a defeated embarrassment. "Well…um…"

He had forgotten for a moment that as far as he knew, the subject of every poem Helga had ever written had been himself. If their classmates were teasing Helga this much just because they knew that she wrote poetry, what would they do to _him_ if they ever found out it was all poetry about him?! He swallowed hard. '_Now I guess I know how Helga feels…not wanting people to know a secret…'_

"Well," he stammered, "that's…that's not important."

Rhonda grinned triumphantly. "You've probably never even READ any of these so called poems, Arnold! In fact, I refuse to believe that any of them even exist until I've seen them for myself!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat herself firmly on Arnold's couch, her eyes closed and her nose held high in the air.

Across the room, Harold, Sid, and Stinky had gotten over the shock of Arnold's sudden burst of anger and had resumed a stifled laughter. Sid smiled at this comment. "Yeah, let's see one…so that we can, um, 'see just how talented Helga is', right guys?" He winked at the other boys.

"Yeah, Arnold," Iggy chimed in, attempting to maintain a serious face, "come on, she must have shown you one?"

Arnold, with his admirable yet all too often ruinous tendency to want to see only the good in people, felt his hand go almost involuntarily toward the pocket of his jeans where he had been keeping Helga's poem all day in hopes of finally returning it to her when they had their 'talk.'

Thankfully, another voice (as of yet unheard since Helga's sudden departure) interrupted his action. "Excuse me—Harold, Sid, Stinky, Iggy…" Lila cleared her throat, and the entire room turned its attention to her sweet, level voice. She smiled and put her hands behind her back "I'm oh too certain you mean well, but I can't help but get the feeling from your first reaction to this news about Helga that you might be ever so slightly tempted to use the contents of something as personal and private as one of her poems to 'tease her' a little more than to 'see how talented she is.'"

The four boys blushed and hung their heads low. Stinky cleared his throat. "Well…maybe… but we wouldn't have meant nothin' by it, Ms. Lila…"

Lila continued smiling and talking pleasantly. "Well, Stinky, the point is that you stopped yourself before you made a mistake."

Harold, Sid, Stinky, and Iggy finally decided to remain silent at this point, feeling too much guilt under Lila's innocent-looking gaze to continue their jesting at Helga's expense.

Arnold, meanwhile, had blinked several times in shock and pulled his hand away from his pocket as this conversation had taken place before him. '_They were going to tease her about it…Why didn't I realize that? I mean, I know Helga gives them a hard time a lot of the time, but they're our friends—I didn't think they'd do something like tricking me just to get some dirt on her…'_

As Lila finished her addressing of the four fourth grade boys now sulking guiltily across his room, Arnold couldn't help but turn in her direction and grin. Finally, someone seemed to be on his side in all of this—someone else seemed to care about Helga too!

Noticing that he was staring at her, Lila approached Arnold and put her hand on his shoulder. "Arnold, I think it would probably be best if you went over to Helga's house and talked to her about whatever's going on here…" Lila raised an eyebrow and gave a gesture toward the other students in the room, not having been filled in by Gerald on the failed plan to 'rescue' Arnold from Helga. "I'm ever so sure that it would be easier to get her to come back here so that everyone can tell her that they're sorry if _you_ speak with her first." She winked.

Arnold nodded his head (not paying too much attention Lila's strange wink), his urgency suddenly returning at the thought of getting Helga back. "Thanks, Lila—"

She interrupted him. "…And I think I ought to come with you."

Arnold raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Lila sighed and gave him a sincere look. "Oh, Arnold, Olga seems ever-so upset with you right now…Do you really think she would let you go and visit Helga all by yourself?"

Arnold considered this and nodded his head in agreement as he realized that it was probably true. '_She __was__ practically pulling Helga out of here before Helga decided to storm away on her own…But, even if Lila comes, how am I going to get into her house…her room?'" _Arnold felt his cheeks become warm at this last thought but was far too distracted with how he was going find a way into the Pataki residence to give it much thought.

As if in answer to his concerns, though, Lila put her hand to her chin in thought and said, "I've been friends with Olga for several months, Arnold, so I'm oh too certain she'd let me in to talk to Helga. Once I get to her room, I'll let her know that you want to talk to her and I'm ever so certain that between the two of us we can come up with some way to get you up there!"

Arnold took a deep breath, accepting this plan as the best that was available to him all things considered. "Okay…Thank you, Lila."

She beamed. "Certainly, Arnold."

Suddenly, a whine from Harold echoed from across the room. "AWWWW, I don't wanna spend the rest of my weekend waiting here to see Helga! Besides, it's after lunch time and I'm HUNGRY!"

Sid took a step forward and looked at Arnold. "Yeah, besides it's not like you can _make us_ stay here or anything?" he scoffed.

"Yeah!" Harold held one of his clenched fists up in the air in Arnold's direction, an annoyed look on his face.

Suddenly, another fourth grader who hadn't spoken up once since being led into Arnold's room finally stepped forward from the shadows and said, in a surprisingly stern voice despite the thick asthmatic breaths he was forced to take, "I…can…"

All eyes in the room turned in shock to the figure of Brainy, who had approached Harold and Sid with an uncharacteristic scowl on his face.

A little taken aback, Harold merely raised an eyebrow and uttered uncertainly, "Huh?"

Brainy's wheezes became stronger, almost as though his emotion was building with each passing moment. "Stay…and…apologize…!"

"Oh please!" Rhonda scoffed from across the room, "We're supposed to be afraid of BRAINY?!"

Brainy turned to face her, effectively putting his back to Harold. "Helga's…nicer…than _you_…" His cheeks pinkened slightly.

A loud laugh from Harold resounded behind him. "Ooooo—Brainy _likes_ Helga! HA HA HA—OW!!!"

At this (painfully truthful) taunt, Brainy raised his right fist into the air and (with all of his somewhat geeky if not incredibly cool might) backhanded Harold right in the face, knocking him straight to the floor.

Naturally, being much brawnier than Brainy, Harold wasn't out cold though he was indeed a little stunned for the moment as he lay on the blue rug of Arnold's room.

The other fourth graders gasped in amazement and shock. Brainy turned to face a wide-eyed Arnold. "Go…get…Helga…"

Arnold remained immobile for a moment, but then gave a nod of his head though he still couldn't really believe what he had just seen.

Gerald, meanwhile, was finally at the end of his rope. "Alright, I have decided that all three of you have gone _COMPLETELY CRAZY_!" He motioned to Arnold, Lila, and Brainy individually. "I mean, _what's_ going on here, man?!"

"Gerald…" Arnold put his hand on his best friend's shoulder in an attempt to calm him, as he was beginning to sound a bit hysterical.

However, it didn't seem to be working, and Gerald continued. "I mean _Lila's_ giving people orders, _Arnold_ feels like _he_ should apologize to _Helga_, and _Brainy_ just got a pulse! No offense, Brainy—" Gerald backed a step away from Brainy's direction, almost as though he was afraid that this last exclamation would get him hit as well. Brainy, though, merely shrugged and resumed his usual face of contentment.

Gerald began to pace across the room. "Really, just tell me WHAT THE HECK is going on? Is there some kind of gas leak in here or something, or am I just dreaming, or WHAT?!—I mean, what's _next_?! Is _Iggy_ gonna start trying to recruit us for the chess team?! Is _Rhonda_ gonna donate those new shoes of hers to charity and renounce material possessions?! Is _Eugene_ gonna start _not_being 'okay' when he gets hurt?! I mean, Helga's already some kind of 'secret poet' who apparently has some kind of 'secret side' that only you can see," he nodded in Arnold's direction, "so who's to say—" His eyes were becoming wider and wider and his voice was rising as he continued this hysterical monologue.

"GERALD!" Arnold slapped his now totally hysterical best friend in the face, and Gerald instantly became quiet.

Breathing heavily, he sat on Arnold's couch in exhaustion. "Oh man…um, thanks for that, I guess…" He rubbed his slightly sore cheek and smiled sheepishly at his best friend.

Arnold smiled. "No problem…Are you going to be okay?"

Gerald grinned. "Well…since I didn't go into even more shock about the fact that you just hit me, I think I'll be fine." He laughed and Arnold blushed, grinning sheepishly back at his best friend.

Arnold helped Gerald up from his couch and the two did their secret handshake.

"Arnold," Lila hesitantly interrupted once it seemed to her that the two boys had made up, "I'm ever so sure we should leave as soon as possible."

Arnold turned his attention back to Lila and instantly remembered their plan to get him into Helga's house. "Oh, right!" He smiled and approached her.

"Well, good luck you guys, I guess!" Gerald smiled and waved his hand at the two departing fourth graders.

Suddenly, though, Arnold paused and then turned back to Gerald and said in a very pensive voice, "Gerald, I think you should come too."

"Huh?" Gerald wasn't sure that he had heard right.

Arnold walked back to him. "You have to come and help me straighten things out with Helga."

Gerald's eyes widened as his best friend's proposal finally sunk in. "WHAT?! Wait a minute, why do_ I_ have to come? _I'm_ not the one who's obsessed with apologizing to her—heck, _I_ still don't even understand what you want to apologize to her _for_? I mean, I feel bad that her sister told everyone 'her secret,' or whatever," he made air quotes, "but I still don't see how that's any of our faults?"

Arnold scowled. "Gerald! You just made her feel like you, me, and everybody else in here hates her so much that they can't even understand why somebody would want to spend a single day with her! She's not some kind of MONSTER!"

"I DIDN'T SAY SHE WAS A MONSTER! I just figured you might not like to end up _dead_ this weekend! I mean, if I had a dime for every time she's threatened to smack you or deck you or rip out one of your organs—"

"But, Gerald, THAT'S THE POINT!" Arnold shouted back. "She's never actually DONE any of those things, has she?! And maybe if you or anybody else here spent some more time with her you'd see that she really is a nice, normal person who can actually be really interesting and funny and smart when she's not trying to defend herself from almost a dozen people laughing at her expense!"

By this point, the two boys were in a full shouting match. Gerald raised an eyebrow at this last statement of his best friend. He looked as though he was about to say something, but then took a deep breath and seemed to change his mind in favor of another response. "Look, man—fine, okay?! You like Helga, and I'm not going to stop you from seeing her. In fact, considering the new threat of 'Brainy the Beast' over there, I'll even stick around for a while and wait for you to bring her back here (which I still think is a pretty bad idea considering how mad she is). But I'm _not_ going go over to her house and apologize to her for this when she's never once apologized to me for any of the abuse I've taken from her over the past seven years!"

Arnold took a deep breath too, and gave his best friend a sincere look. "Gerald…please do this…as a favor to me…I promise she's not that bad…Please…"

Lila cleared her throat. She hadn't wanted to intrude upon the fight that the two boys had been having, but the more they talked the more she realized that Gerald must have something important to do with whatever had occurred here in the last fifteen minutes/ "Gerald…it really might be ever so helpful if you'd come and help explain things to Helga."

Gerald hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth from the desperate face of his blonde best friend to the pleading face of the red-haired girl standing before him as well. Finally, though, he gave a sigh and accepted that he was now outnumbered. "Fine man, I'll come, OKAY! But you owe me one! And this is going be quick; in and out, and I don't get left alone in the room with her!" Arnold was about to protest with an annoyed glare but Gerald cut him off. "Hey man, you didn't see that look she gave me when she found out _I _was the one who mentioned to her sister that she was here! There's no way I'm giving her a chance at me, no matter how 'nice' you think she can be!"

Arnold gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. At least Gerald was coming, though—that was the important thing. '_Maybe if he can explain to her what happened, she'll believe me and try and come back…It's worth a shot.'_

Lila smiled happily. "Wonderful, Gerald! Now, I think we should get going!" She walked towards Arnold's open doorway and the two boys followed behind her.

"Um, Arnold…what should _we_ do?"

Arnold stopped and turned around at the sound of Eugene's voice: he suddenly remembered the fact that his room was still full of his fellow fourth grade classmates.

"Oh, um…" He really wasn't sure how to respond to this question. '_I guess they should all just go home…Still, I want to make sure that they're not going to make fun of Helga when we're all at school tomorrow…Hmm, maybe—"_

Lila's voice interrupted his thoughts again. She addressed the crowd. "Well, I'm ever so certain you all should just wait here until we bring Helga back so you can apologize to her, just like I was telling Arnold before."

It seemed in all the shouting between Arnold and Gerald, and Brainy's sudden 'explosion,' the other fourth graders had forgotten this task Lila had planned for them. However, now that it had been brought up again they met the idea with several doubtful grumbles. After a moment, Rhonda spoke up. "Honestly, I really do have better things to do with the rest of my Sunday afternoon than wait around to be abused by Helga—There's still the fashion show to attend, right Nadine?!"

"Yeah, and I've still gotta get some toenail clippings from Rhonda to go with the lock of hair she promised me!" Curly began to laugh maniacally, causing Rhonda to shudder.

The others were about to follow suite with complaints, but suddenly Brainy shot them all a deathly glare that caused the entire room to fall silent. Harold even whimpered a bit, still clutching at his sore nose. "Go…Arnold…" he wheezed.

With these words, Arnold, Lila, and Gerald made there way to the door: Arnold, looking anxious as he realized that what was coming might be his biggest confrontation with Helga EVER, Gerald, still shaking his head and occasionally pinching one of his arms when he thought no one was looking to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, and Lila, trying to maintain a smile though a trace of worry was upon her face.

As they prepared to climb down Arnold's ladder, however, someone else climbed up it and stepped into Arnold's room. "Hey, Shortman, I heard some ruckus from up here when I was in the kitchen, and then I figured that the boarders might have gotten in since you opened the door, so I just wanted to see if—"

He stopped, eyes wide at the sudden population explosion of ten-year-olds currently in his Grandson's room. He leaned down and whispered to him, "Say, Arnold…am I havin' another one of them 'episodes' or are there about a dozen extra people up here?"

Arnold shook his head in exasperation and whispered back, "No, they're all really here, Grandpa. It's…kind of a long story…but me and Gerald and Lila have to go take care of something right now: we'll be back in a little while. Everyone else is just going to stay up here and wait for us. Is there anyway you could bring them some cookies or sandwiches or something in the meantime?"

Harold's ears perked up and he instantly forgot about his sore nose. "Sandwiches—YEAH!"

The other kids all murmured sounds of agreement—it was already after one o'clock, after all, and none of them had had a proper lunch yet.

Grandpa straightened up and smiled at his Grandson. "Sure, Shortman, sandwiches and cookies for everybody! I'll whip some up in the kitchen." He leaned in close to Arnold again and said in a wry tone, "I'd have your Grandma do it but it seems the 'Old South' changed to 'Raw Foods Organic' overnight and now she's making everything with live insects in it." He winked and Arnold smiled (though he had to try very hard to suppress a gag at this last comment.)

"Thanks, Grandpa! Well, we'll be back soon…and Brainy?"

Brainy turned to face Arnold, wheezing heavily.

Arnold raised an eyebrow and gave him a confused half smile, only able to think of one thing to say to him. "Um…thanks…"

Brainy merely continued staring at him, wheezing heavily (his sudden burst of anger had really taken a lot out of him). He only managed to muster one word: "Helga…"

Arnold nodded and then turned back to his open doorway again. He motioned for Lila and Gerald to go down before him, and then took one last fleeting look at his classmates who would hopefully be apologizing to Helga very shortly. '_I just hope this works—it must be hard for Helga not to be herself…But I guess I can see why she's afraid to show the type of person she really is to everyone. I just hope she knows that I would never make fun of her—she's the best writer I've ever seen…and most interesting person I've ever met…'_

With this last thought he finally descended to the landing below along with his two friends, fully prepared to face any challenge to get to Helga.

* * *

"Phoebe, I don't care how 'cool' you think he is—he ratted me out to Olga and I swear I'm gonna pound him the second I see him! (Unless he's with that Football Head—then I'll pummel _him_ first just for going along with it)!"

"Oh, Helga…I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad…"

"NOT THAT BAD!?" Helga flung herself on her bed, the phone receiver pressed firmly against her right ear. "I was just dragged from Arnold's room by Olga right when I was about to—well, it doesn't matter was I was about to do. Anyway, she dragged me out of there in front of our entire class who Arnold basically had hiding downstairs for the last half hour that I was there! Oh, and did I mention the best part? She made sure to announce that I was Arnold's _poetry_ _tutor_ to basically everybody we know just before I managed to get her down the stairs and out of earshot!"

"Well Helga…" Phoebe attempted, "if you have a talent at something like that, is it really so bad if—"

"PHOEBE—we're talking about ME here! Helga G. Pataki—remember? If it was _you,_ that would be one thing—everyone expects _you_ to do great at school. Do you have any idea what this could do to my reputation?! My only salvation's gonna be if nobody remembers it since the entire incident was such a general catastrophe! I mean, I guess I could just deny it or something, but how long is it going to be before someone gets a hold of my next English assignment, or makes sure to ask Simmons if they can see some examples of the stuff that that 'wonderfully talented poetry tutor Helga G. Pataki' has done! Crimeny—I might as well not even go to school tomorrow…"

"Oh Helga, don't say that!" Phoebe's voice sounded concerned at the other end of the line.

"Pheebs…I just don't know how I'm going to fix this one…" Helga's voice lost its usual angry edge, now sounding defeated and almost fearful in Phoebe's concerned ear.

"Helga…"

"_BABY_ _SISTER_! I told you NO PHONE CALLS! You're supposed to wait upstairs until Mummy and Daddy come home so I can speak to them, and then we can have our family meeting about what happened today!"

Helga's anger returned full force and she growled loudly into the receiver (Olga had picked up the other line downstairs), "HEY, YOU ALREADY HUMILIATED ME IN FRONT OF MY ENTIRE CLASS, COULD YOU _AT LEAST_ NOT LISTEN IN ON MY PRIVATE CALLS?! Ugh… sorry, Phoebe, I'll talk to you tomorrow…"

"Okay, Helga…" Phoebe didn't like the idea of having to end their conversation on this note, and wished that Olga had waited at least a little longer before interrupting.

"Honestly, Helga—I hope you don't give Mummy and Daddy this much trouble when I'm not arou—"

Helga slammed down the receiver on Olga in midsentence, and was instantly enveloped in the silence of her room. Olga had seemed to think, upon them both arriving home from Arnold's, that her 'baby sister' needed a 'time out' ('_I swear, it's like she's stuck in this mind set that I'm 4 years old or something!')._ As such, she had told Helga to sit in her room 'quietly' (which didn't seem to include talking on the phone nor any of the other things Helga had tried in an attempt to test the limits of this little rule—blasting hard rock music on her stereo, stomping all over the place until she was almost too tired to stand up, yelling to Olga downstairs that she 'hated her stinkin' guts', etc.) Olga had stopped her at every turn with some kind of lecture. In fact, Helga was quite surprised at Olga's persistence at this point—she had never seen her older sister so angry before.

'_I guess I really must've freaked her out when I ran off…Oh well, maybe now she'll finally start to realize that no one bosses around Helga G. Pataki!')_

So, now, Helga was lying on her bed in a completely quiet room on a Sunday afternoon awaiting the return of her parents and possibly the most awkward 'family meeting' of her life. '_Oh, for Pete's sake: me, Olga, Miriam and Bob talking about Olga's opinion of my non-existent dating habits.' _It was almost laughable to her. '_Well, __there's__ the topic for my next month of therapy sessions with Dr. Bliss, heh…'_

Helga turned on her side and pulled out her small gold locket bearing the classic picture of her beloved Arnold. "Oh, Arnold…it was worth any punishment Bob and Miriam can think up and any humiliation Olga may have brought upon me to spend such a perfect afternoon all alone with you…" She sighed and sat up. "But why did you lie to me? Why didn't you just tell me what was going on? Why didn't you ask for my help?"

Helga's face had taken on a very sad expression. "Maybe I was just hoping for too much…I mean, I guess I can understand why Arnold would want to keep secrets from me…heh, it's not exactly like _I've_ been completely honest with _him_ all these years…"

Helga left the locket lying upon her pillow and began to pace the pink carpet of her room. "Why did I have to explode like that—like I ALWAYS do?! I was finally starting to feel comfortable and normal and happy for once, and the second I have to be like that around anybody but Arnold (and it even took me two days alone with him just to get to that point) I just…LOSE IT!!!"

Helga gave an exasperated sigh and threw herself upon her bed again in frustration. She took a few heavy breaths, her scowl slowly disappearing, and then asked of herself in a defeated voice, "Am I really that scared of them?"

'_But you're Helga—Helga G. Pataki! You're not scared of anything! PERIOD!'_

Helga considered this idea. "Hmph, then why did I just bolt out of there like they were all going to attack me or something?"

'_Because Arnold and Gerald messed with you—and NOBODY messes with Helga G. Pataki!'_

"Well, I'll deal with Gerald later…But Arnold…" She snatched the locket from her pillow. "Maybe I did lose my temper, maybe I shouldn't have left! Oh Arnold, I'm sorry! I was just so ready to finally settle things once and for all with you—we were finally alone and I finally felt like I was your friend rather than just some hysterical tormentor who mocks and insults you at every opportunity to hide her true feelings."

Helga stood up on her knees, her voice becoming more and more dramatic. "Oh, curse this Pataki pride! I'm sorry, Arnold, but no matter how much I care for you I just don't think I could bear giving up the most intimate secret of my life to the harsh world that we live in—to expose my true self to the people around us and submit myself to their judgments and ridicule! Oh Arnold, nothing's your fault—I did this to myself!" Helga had reached the climax of her speech and now sank down upon her bed, the locket held firmly in her hand.

In the quiet of the room she finally closed her eyes and sighed very sadly. In the silence, she faintly whispered, "Maybe I should never have told you in the first place…"

From the floor Helga heard several hard 'thumps' and growled at the blank wall she was facing. Each time she'd made any sound that her big sister had deemed 'offensive,' Olga had been hitting the ceiling with the end of a broom handle as a way to tell her to quiet down.

However, Helga was in no mood for it this time. "Oh, shut up Olga!!! Don't worry—I'm still 'safely' locked away here, just like you wanted!"

The thumping stopped but Helga was still livid. She stood up, putting the locket back into her jumper pocket.

Suddenly, though, a mischievous smile came to her face and she said to herself in a devious voice, "But maybe I won't be by the time you get up here…heh, heh, heh…"

* * *

Arnold leaned against the side of Helga's stoop, panting alongside his equally winded best friend, Gerald Johanssen. Both boys along with Lila had run as quickly as possible to Helga's house, and now Lila stood at the front door waiting for an answer to the doorbell she had just rung.

Lila smoothed out her dress and re-clipped her hair back (she had wanted to get to Helga's quickly, too, but she hadn't realized just how far away it could feel when you were running there at full speed). She rang the doorbell again, a pleasant smile forcibly replacing the worn out look on her face.

After another second of silence the three fourth graders heard a muffled but rather upbeat and perky "Com-ing!" from inside the house.

The door was flung open and there stood a dramatically frowning Olga Pataki, her eyes already shining as though they were ready to flood with tears. "Oh, Mummy, Daddy, I'm so glad your—Oh, Lil' Sis!"

Instantly, her expression changed to one of total elation and she hugged Lila with a big smile. "Oh, Lila, sweetie, let me look at you!" She stepped back a few inches from the equally ecstatic red-haired fourth grader in front of her and examined Lila. "Oh, you look just as adorable as ever! How are you, my Lil' Sis?"

Lila smiled. "Oh, Olga, it's simply wonderful to see you too! I'm simply terrific, thank you. And you?"

"Oh I'm absitively posalutely great, Lila!" she giggled.

Lila continued, her tone as cheerful as ever. "And how is Helga?"

Olga's expression became a bit melancholy and she sighed childishly. "Well, I'm afraid she's being quite stubborn about everything." She looked at Lila innocently. "I don't want to punish her, but she scared me so much running away like that! I just don't know what to do with her…"

Lila took a deep breath. "Oh, I'm ever so sorry to hear that, Olga…Would you like _me_ to try and talk to her?

Suddenly, Olga's eyes lit up and she looked directly at Lila. "OH, Lil' Sis—_would_ you? _Could_ you? You're such a good influence on her, just like Daddy says!"

Lila smiled. "Of course, Olga! Now," she raised her voice a bit to make it more audible, "which room is hers again…I don't quite remember?"

Olga straightened up and pointed into the house. "Oh, Lila, you silly—you know it's the first door on the left upstairs."

Lila smiled. "Oh yes, I remember now: The one with the WINDOW THAT'S RIGHT NEAR THE BIG TREE IN YOUR BACKYARD, RIGHT?"

Arnold sighed to himself and slapped his palm against his forehead in frustration. '_Lila, we can hear just fine,' _he thought tensely to himself, '_stop yelling stuff right to us—Olga will know something's up!'_

Olga raised an eyebrow in curiosity. For a moment, she eyed Lila suspiciously and Lila couldn't help but hold her breath in nervous anticipation of being discovered (though she maintained her false smile of sweetness). Finally, though, Olga just shook her strange behavior off with a laugh, and replied, "See, I knew you'd remember, Lila."

She led her inside and Lila sighed with relief. "Thank you, Olga. I'm ever so certain I can get through to Helga!"

"Oh, I just know you can Lila—and if you need any help you just call me and I'll come right u—" The door shut behind the two girls, leaving Arnold and Gerald alone on the ground near Helga's stoop.

Arnold motioned for Gerald to follow him once they were sure that the coast was clear. Reluctantly, Gerald obeyed and soon the two boys found themselves at the fence behind which was Helga's yard.

"Gerald, help me push up that dumpster against the fence so we can climb up…"

Gerald sighed quietly to himself. "Man, I can't believe I'm doing this…" He grabbed an end of the dumpster and together he and Arnold managed to shove it up against the fence.

Arnold panted, then turned to his best friend with a smile. "Thanks, Gerald. Well, let's go!" He began to hoist himself up.

Gerald paused for a moment before following. "Hey, Arnold…"

Arnold turned around, now sitting on the top of the dumpster. He wiped some sweat from his brow. "Yeah?"

Gerald pulled himself up so that he was sitting beside him. "Listen…I get that you really wanna do this, and that no matter what I say I'm not gonna change your mind. But, could you at least tell me _why_ this is so important…I mean, did something happen between you and Helga?"

Gerald was looking at his best friend as sincerely as possible and, for a moment, Arnold felt very tempted to explain everything to him. After all, he'd been entirely alone trying to work out this whole 'Helga' thing for the past month ever since the FTi scandal and, considering the fact that so much had happened this weekend…well, a chance to talk it all out with someone he could trust sounded pretty wonderful right about now…

Arnold sighed and looked down at his knees, torn between showing his best friend that he trusted him and his personal promise not to betray Helga's secret to anybody.

He decided to split the difference. "Gerald…there's just some stuff I've learned about Helga recently…"

"Like?" Gerald's tone showed he wanted Arnold to continue.

Arnold sighed. "I'm sorry, I promised I wouldn't tell anybody…But it's really important and I think the reason she got so upset before was because she was about to talk to me about it…but then everybody showed up and I guess it kind of ruined the moment…"

For a moment both boys sat in total silence. After a few seconds, Arnold looked up at his best friend only to find Gerald staring at him with a very strange look on his face (similar to the one he had given him back in his room when Arnold had started listing all of Helga's 'supposed' good qualities). "You know, man, if I didn't know better…" He raised an eyebrow, a half grin coming to his lips. Arnold gave him a questioning look but Gerald just shook his head back and forth and put his hand on Arnold's shoulder. "Man, you are some piece of work."

Arnold smiled at the comment, though one of his eyebrows was still raised as he wasn't entirely sure what it meant.

"Well, come on, man—let's do this!" Gerald gestured forward with his hand for Arnold to go first, and after a few moments both boys were finally in Helga's Pataki's backyard.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lila had finally managed to shake Olga by assuring her over and over again that there was really no need for her to come up and assist, and that she would indeed call on her if she needed any help with Helga.

Lila emerged on the second floor landing of the Pataki household and approached Helga's doorway. '_Oh dear, I just hope Arnold and Gerald heard which window is Helga's clearly enough.' _She raised her hand to knock on the door but stopped and took a deep breath first. '_I'm certain Arnold will make Helga feel better, especially if she likes him as much as she said…' _Lila briefly recalled the day Helga had admitted her feelings about Arnold to her. '_I just hope nothing happens to spoil Helga's secret…it seemed like such an important thing to her…'_

Lila took another deep breath and then knocked. '_Oh well, here it goes…'_

* * *

Phoebe Heyerdahl tapped the end of her pencil against the notebook she was writing in, trying to find a way to finish the final stanza of her English assignment. Suddenly, though, she gave a deep sigh and pushed the work off to the side of her desk.

Involuntarily, she reached for her phone and dialed the first two digits of Helga Pataki's phone number but then stopped herself as she recalled Olga's recent forbiddance of phone calls.

"I hope she's alright…" Thoughts about a sad Helga lying alone on her bed crept into Phoebe's mind, heightening her worry.

She considered her options for a moment and, suddenly, her expression changed from one of concern to one of firm resolve.

"I can't just leave Helga alone like that…Olga might not let me see her but I know there's one person whom I can talk to about this!" Phoebe stood up, pushed in her desk chair, and then raced out of her room, determined to help her best friend at all costs.

* * *

"Hello…Helga?"

Lila glanced around the seemingly empty room before her. She'd knocked several times but gotten no response and so, finally, she had cautiously opened the door herself. Now, she standing in the middle of Helga's room, slightly concerned about the fact that Helga didn't appear to be inside of it.

"Maybe she's in the bathroom? Oh well, I'd better see about Arnold and Gerald—I can explain what's going on to her later." Lila climbed onto Helga's bed and opened her window wide. In a loud whisper she called, "Arnold? Gerald?"

"Just one sec!" Gerald hoisted himself up from a low branch and grabbed the window ledge. With a grunt he heaved himself up and finally came to rest on Helga's bed (along with several leaves and broken twigs). "WHEW! Remind me why I'm doing this, again, Arnold…" he called behind him between pants.

Arnold gripped the window ledge and kicked one of his legs up over the side. He rolled over through the window and came to land on Helga's bed with a thump, panting heavily as well. "Because you're the 'coolest, smoothest, most hip dude in the entire city'…" he repeated the words he had recently agreed to say to Gerald every time that question was asked for the rest of the day (and that he had said several times already since they had scaled Helga's fence, dropped down into her yard, skulked over to the tree[after knocking over a barbeque and almost getting caught by Olga], and scaled the trunk with their bare hands to reach her window). "And because you're the best friend a guy ever had…" he added with a grin.

Gerald sat up, grinning as well. "That's right, man, and don't you forget it."

Both boys cleaned themselves off a bit. Gerald stood up first and quickly surveyed where he was. "Hmm…" he put his hands on his hips and grinned, "Helga G. Pataki's room? A place I've often visited in my nightmares…" He shook his head, still smiling, and then helped his friend up off the bed.

Arnold turned to Lila with an appreciative smile. "Good job, Lila!"

Lila smiled, but instantly her expression became one of worry. "Thank you, Arnold…But I think we have a problem…"

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. "Huh?"

Lila gestured to the empty room around them. "Helga's not here."

Arnold's eyes widened and he scanned the room. "BUT…BUT…no, come on—she's got to be here! Olga would never have let her leave after the way she yelled at her at my house!"

"Aw man!" Gerald crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Don't tell me we did all this fighting and bonding and breaking & entering for nothing! If she's not here, then _she'd_ better start being the one afraid 'cause _I'm_ going to deck _her_ for once!"

Arnold circled the room frantically. '_Where is she?! She wouldn't have gone back to my house, would she? No, not after all the stuff that happened there…Maybe she went to Phoebe's or—"_

CRACK!

CRASH!

"OW!!!"

Arnold whipped around and found a very interesting sight in front of him, which he noticed Gerald and Lila were also staring at with wide eyes and disbelieving faces: the closet door was flung wide open and lying on the floor in front of it sprawled on her back with her eyes closed in pain was Helga!

She coughed and rubbed her head (eyes still shut). "Oh, just brilliant, Helga—just brilliant! You just 'had' to use that small anvil you found in the garage for the head, didn't you?! And, of course, you just 'had' to try and bring it up the ladder to the attic while you were hiding out in there! Of COURSE that step wasn't gonna hold a thirty pound anvil—heck _you_ could barely hold it yourself!" She stood up, eyes open but staring directly into the closet. "Now I've gotta get a new ladder, and after all that I'm still no where near done with the new shri—AHHHHHH!!!"

Helga had finally turned around, only to come face to face with a very nervous Gerald.

Suddenly, her head whipped around the room and she noticed that Lila and Arnold were also present. "ARNOLD?!"

"HELGA?!" the surprise of seeing her suddenly fall out of her closet was just wearing off.

"GERALD?!" '_What is HE doing here?!'_

"HELGA?!" The fear of what he knew Helga G. Pataki would do to him if she could get the chance suddenly resurfaced in Gerald's mind.

"LILA?!" Helga exclaimed acidly.

"Helga…" Lila tried to address her calmly, but it was to no avail.

"WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?!?!" Helga finally shouted at all three intruders.

A mumbled voice sounded from the steps outside of the room. "Is everything alright up there, Lila? I thought I heard a crash…and some yelling."

Lila calmly walked over to Helga's door and opened it slightly. "Oh, everything's fine, Olga! I just dropped something. Um…Helga's doing ever so well—I think I'm really getting through to her…Just give me a little more time!" she added brightly, though a tinge of nervousness was evident in her voice.

"Alright, Lil' Sis…" Olga replied hesitantly, and her footsteps descending the stairs could be heard.

Lila closed the door and sighed. "You guys, I'm ever so happy that you made it in here, but could you please keep things down? I really don't like having to lie to my Big Sis…and it's really starting to put me just oh so slightly on edge…" Lila sat at Helga's desk chair, twiddling her thumbs nervously. Arnold looked with confusion at Gerald and Gerald just shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay." Arnold began, taking a deep breath and coming back to the task at hand. He turned to Helga. "Um, hi, Helga…I guess you're probably wondering why we're here…"

Helga's eyes were wide with total shock—she hadn't even tried to shut up her closet yet.

Arnold continued. "Well, I know you were kind of upset about everything that just happened, so me and Gerald" Gerald waved an unsure hand, "and Lila," Lila had been staring ahead of her but then shot Helga a tense smile, "thought we should come over and explain things to you. See, what happened was—"

"WHAT THE HECK—HOW DID YOU—WHEN DID YOU—WHERE DID YOU—FOOTBALL HEAD, GET OUT OF HERE NOW!!!" Helga hissed as loudly as she could without making herself audible outside of the room.

She walked over to Arnold, grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her window, a look of total panic on her face. It took Arnold a moment to regain speech, he was so surprised by this reaction. "Helga?!" He pulled away from her grip. "Look, I know you're angry but we just want to explain to you what happened and apologize and make sure you're okay!"

Helga was staring out of her window at the ground below and mumbling to herself. "Hmm…well, _I_ made it once that time I was sleepwalking…and it's not that far of a drop, anyway…Still, I wish I could get them out from the first floor—that would involve the least amount of risk…Huh?!" She turned to Arnold, suddenly aware that he had just spoken.

Arnold put his hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Helga, don't worry—"

Her eyes widened and she whispered loudly again, "Don't worry? DON'T WORRY! Do you have ANY IDEA how much trouble I'm in already?! If Olga catches you up here, or even worse Bob or Miriam….Arnold, I heard Olga on the phone before talking to boarding schools—BOARDING SCHOOLS!!!"

She grabbed his shoulders and looked him right in the eyes. "You've got to get out of here—ALL OF YOU!" She gestured toward Gerald and Lila who were both eyeing each other with equally confused looks.

"Helga…" Arnold was really concerned about how nervous this whole thing was making her—he'd never seen her so worked up before. He removed her hands from his shoulders. "Just calm down for a minute. Olga already knows Lila's here—she told her to come up! And Gerald and I just want to talk to you for a few minutes and then we'll just quietly climb back down the tree. Don't worry…"

He grabbed one of her hands in both of his and held it very tightly. Instantly, he felt her arm relax and then slowly her whole body. She took a few deep breaths and then finally gave a defeated sigh and said in a much calmer, almost happier tone, "Okay Arnold…fine…" Suddenly, though, her scowl reappeared, bringing her defensive voice back with it. "But make this quick because I am NOT spending the next nine years at some prison for girls in the Swiss alps wearing a plaid navy uniform and addressing teachers as 'mam' and 'sir.'" She pointed the index finger of her free hand into his face. Despite its intended threatening effect, though, Arnold couldn't help but chuckle slightly at this unnecessarily tough gesture.

She blinked at this unusual reaction to her tough persona but regained her composure in an instant. With a "Hmph'" Helga pulled her hand free of his grasp and sat on her bed with her arms crossed in front of herself, her head turned away from Arnold's face.

Arnold shook his head back and forth, still grinning. '_Oh well, at least she's listening.'_

Arnold repositioned himself so that he was more comfortable beside Helga on her bed. He took a deep breath. "Um…okay…"

Arnold paused suddenly, though, as he remembered that it was not just him and her talking this time—two other people were going to be in on the conversation. People who, as far as he knew, were absolutely clueless about Helga's secret love for him. '_How should I…? Well, I guess I can just kind of work around it…Here it goes.'_

"Uh, well, to start, Helga…I think I know why you got so upset when everybody showed up like that?"

"Oh you do, do you?" Helga shot back in a sarcastic tone. "Well, then, enlighten me, Football Head?" She turned her face towards his, the scowl still present.

Arnold blushed slightly and glanced at Gerald and Lila before beginning. "Well…I think that maybe you were finally thinking about talking to me about…you know…that 'thing' we talked about last month during the FTi adventure…But then everybody just sort of interrupted you…"

Helga tried her best to maintain her callous gaze but couldn't help raising an eyebrow at this surprisingly accurate observation from her beloved. '_Hmm…since when did Arnold get this much of a clue? Still, I don't like him talking like this with Gerald here… Lila already knows and she's done a decent enough job of keeping things under wraps, but I know Gerald—he would sell me out in a minute!'_

She was about to open her mouth to express her concerns to Arnold but he cut her off, still talking. "I mean, I can understand how much something like that must have upset you, and I don't blame you for leaving…But I really wish you'd come back and give it another chance. Everybody's waiting back at my house to apologize to you and they're all really sorry for hurting your feelings!"

"Arnold, I—"

Arnold cut her off yet again, this time grabbing her shoulders and looking her intensely in the eyes as he felt the things he'd wanted to say all weekend building up inside of him. "Helga!"

Helga swallowed hard, absolutely terrified of what he might say next (and who'd he be saying it in front of).

Arnold took a deep breath, "I've been trying to deal with…uh," he remembered Gerald and Lila "…that 'secret' you mentioned for almost a month, and I feel like I'm going to explode or something if I don't talk about it soon. I can't just keep pretending that it doesn't exist. And I can't even imagine what it must have been like for you keeping it hidden all this time!" The concern on his face was almost overwhelming and Helga practically felt a tear come to her eye. "Please, Helga—talk to me!"

Helga was genuinely unsure how to respond—the conflict going on inside of her was immense. '_Tell him off! No, tell him you love him! No, tell him thanks and then end with some kind of sarcastic comment! No, kill Gerald (Why? Because he ratted you out to Olga, remember? Oh yeah—well, we'll do that later!). UGH, WHY DON'T I JUST SAY WHAT I FEEL AND TO HECK WITH THE REST OF IT?!'_

Helga swallowed hard and said the first thought that came to her mind. "Arnold, people are staring…"

Arnold sank back a little from the blond girl in front of him and looked back at Gerald and Lila across the room. Gerald seemed like he was about to say something, only he was frozen in the gesture; his right hand was raised with his index finger slightly extended, and his mouth was open. He blinked once or twice, made like he was actually going to speak, but then finally settled on remaining silent.

Lila, meanwhile, had an expression of deep curiosity on her face that suddenly gave way to a wide-eyed look of realization. "Oh, Helga! Did you—does he—" She pointed to Arnold. "I mean," she blushed and pointlessly whispered toward Helga, "is he talking about the same 'secret' that _you_ told _me_ about?"

Helga blinked a few times as she realized what Lila meant. Come to think of it, there didn't seem much point in denying it to her. Besides, was there much difference between Lila knowing that Helga loved Arnold and Lila knowing that Arnold knew that Helga loved Arnold? She resumed her scowl and shot back an obviously affirmative, "Maybe!"

Arnold's eyes widened. "Wait—Helga?!" He turned back to Helga. "Is she talking about the same 'secret' that _you_ told _me_ about?"

Helga folded her arms in front of herself and refused to look him in the eye. "Maybe!" she announced again.

Lila stood up, positively beaming. "Oh Helga, you told him, didn't you!? Oh, I'm so happy for you—when did it happen?!" Lila ran over to Helga and gave her a hug.

Helga instantly pulled away. "HEY! Sheesh, Lila, calm down—I didn't just get 'pinned by my beau at the sock hop' or anything! And if you must know," she could tell Lila (like Olga) wasn't about to let something like this go unless she threw her a bone, "I did it over a month ago!" She couldn't hide the small trace of pride in her voice; she might not have confessed to Arnold in the most desirable way but she had, indeed, done it—and it had taken all of the guts and bravery she'd had at the time to actually go through with it. '_Heh—come to think of it, if that's not an accomplishment for me then I don't know what is!'_

This small detail seemed to appease Lila who returned smiling and giggling to her seat across the room next to Gerald. Helga sat back down on her bed beside Arnold and wiped her brow. "Whew! Now that Lila's done collapsing my lungs let's get on with your story or apology or whatever you were saying, Football Head!" She turned with a grin to face Arnold but, strangely enough, wasn't met with the smiling, patient face she had been expecting.

Instead, Arnold's eyebrows were set in an accusatory scowl and he had a hand resting on one of his hips; all in all, he looked pretty annoyed. All smugness left Helga's face and she just stared at the very unusual Arnold before her.

He spoke up, a note of frustration in his forcibly level voice. "Wait a minute, now let me get this straight—you told _Lila_," he motioned to Lila who smiled and waved from across the room, "before you told _me_!" He motioned back to himself.

Helga blinked and then stuttered, "Well…um…I—"

"Uh, could someone tell _me_ the secret, please?" Gerald innocently asked amid the argument, though no one seemed to notice.

"_Lila_—a person you can't seem to stand on a regular basis—got to know a secret about me, before _I_ did?" He sounded distinctly miffed.

Helga scoffed. "Well, in all fairness, Arnoldo, I 'can't seem to stand _you_ on a regular basis' either…"

Arnold folded his arms in front of his chest and eyed her very closely, not finding the joke at all funny.

Lila spoke up from across the room. "Besides, Arnold, she only told me a few months ago…around the time of the school play so that I'd give her the part of Juliet." Lila smiled sheepishly and added, "But you have to admit, it was kind of an oh too obvious thing, Arnold. In fact, I've kind of suspected it ever since I moved here."

Arnold turned his attention to Lila, completely thrown by her entire statement. "Whoa, whoa, whoa…hold on! What do you mean 'obvious'?"

"Um, could someone _please_ fill me in this 'obvious secret' involving Helga and Arnold that we're talking about?" Gerald asked again, though sadly he still received no response.

Lila raised an eyebrow at Arnold. "Well, gosh, Arnold…I mean, with all the attention she gives you, and the way she's always trying to get you to notice her, I'm ever-so surprised you didn't figure it out on your own before she had to come out and tell you."

Arnold was thoroughly frustrated with what he considered Lila's smugness by this point (though she was only stating what she felt was obvious). He turned back to Helga and changed the subject. "And what was so important about being Juliet in the school play that you'd just go off and tell somebody _everything_ while I was probably sitting at home wondering how I was going to get all of the spitballs you shot at me that morning out of my hair before opening night!"

Helga's eyes opened wide at this unusually accusatory tone of Arnold's, and she asked sarcastically, "Oh gee, Arnold—I wonder what possible benefit I could have gotten out of being Juliet that was worth telling Little Ms. Sunshine over there the biggest secret of my life?! Let's think about that Arnold, just for a minute—what the heck was in it for me?"

Arnold hesitated for a moment and then instantly flushed a deep shade of scarlet and closed his mouth as realization set into his face. "OH…um…oh!" he stuttered.

"Excuse me!" Gerald was really starting to get sick of being ignored at this point. "I've got this strange feeling that I'm being kept out of a serious loop here, so could somebody please just fill me in already! I promise I won't tell anyone or anything—I just want to understand _something_ that you guys are saying!"

"Helga…" Arnold was staring down at his hands, trying to process the somewhat uncomfortable realization that the only reason Helga had been in the school play was to kiss him. Suddenly, he grinned sheepishly and glanced at her. "Don't you think it might have been easier to just tell me everything a while ago rather than sneaking around? I mean, it couldn't have been easy pulling off something like that—weren't there already two other girls ahead of Lila for that part?"

"Three actually," Helga casually corrected him in an almost proud tone. "Whew! And believe me, looking back on it, what I did on top of that building was a piece of cake compared to the stunts I had to pull to bump off all of them and the lovely Lila over here to boot." She jerked her thumb in Lila's direction.

"You know, I've always wanted to ask you how you managed to get Rhonda, Sheena, and Phoebe to give up the part as well? Did you tell them the 'secret' too?" Lila crossed her legs and a very attentive look came to her face.

"GUYS, HEL-LO?!" Gerald was now standing up and waving his arms up and down, a thoroughly annoyed look on his face.

Arnold whipped his head around to face Helga again "Wait a minute, you told _MORE PEOPLE_?!"

Helga instantly held up her hands in a defensive gesture and grinned sheepishly. "Hey, relax, Arnoldo! I only told Lila and _only_ because nothing else was working on her!"

Arnold took a few deep breaths and seemed to calm down. "Well, okay…"

"The other people who have managed to find out had nothing to do with the school play whatsoever…" Helga quickly added under her breath, though apparently not soft enough for Arnold not to hear.

"WHAT?!" He stood up, eyes wide and completely thrown.

Helga stood up as well and scowled at him, her voice becoming angry again "Hey, relax, bucko! It's just something that's occasionally happened over the past seven years—it's not like I had some kind of quota to fill or anything before _you_ finally found out!"

"Arnold, I think it might be best if you and Helga talked about this subject later and we got on to why we're here—" Lila started.

"OKAY, THAT DOES IT!!!"

Suddenly, all eyes turned to Gerald who was standing dead center between Arnold, Helga, and Lila. His fists were clenched at his sides and he was breathing heavily and scowling.

He addressed Helga. "Now, look! Arnold dragged me here to apologize to you and even though I still don't really think I should have to, I came anyway as a favor to him! But I'm sick of all three of you," he addressed Arnold and Lila as well, "going around in circles talking about some 'big secret' that I have no clue about! Now, I'm willing to tell Helga I'm sorry but I think I should at least get to know WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON, HERE?!" Breathing heavily with the strength of his speech, he threw himself into his former chair and folded his arms in front of his chest, eyeing each of them as he awaited an answer.

Arnold, Helga, and Lila all stared at each other, not quite sure how to respond. Suddenly, Arnold turned to Helga and opened his mouth as though he were about to speak.

"No." She cut him off in a firm, flat voice.

"Bu—" He tried again.

"NO!" she growled back.

"Helga, maybe you shou—"

"Lila," Helga whipped her head around, "after everything that's happened today I am in NO MOOD! The answer is NO! Absolutely NOT! NO WAY!" She folded her arms in front of her chest—for her the matter was settled.

'_Yeah, right—like I'm gonna tell Geraldo that I'm in love with his best friend just so he can follow the conversation a little better! Hmpf—he can apologize to me, heck he can name his first born child after me if he wants but there's no way I'm giving him that—NO STINKIN' WAY!'_

Gerald continued waiting, his frustration still apparent.

"Helga, I just don't understand what's so bad about letting him know! I mean, he's my best friend—it's not like he's going to tell anyone!" Arnold stood up, hands on his hips. "Besides, it seems that's _your_ department anyway…" he added with an obvious trace of annoyance in his tone.

"YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT'S SO BAD ABOUT IT, ARNOLD?!" Helga shouted back. "It's 'so bad' because it's MY secret, they're MY feelings, and it's MY life and no one else has a right to it!" She raised her arms high in the air. "And I'm getting' SO SICK of you acting like you suddenly have free reign to bring it up whenever you want just because you know about it!"

Helga was used to outbursts like this shutting people up once and for all in an argument. However, Arnold wasn't about to back down. He narrowed his eyes and countered, "Well, maybe I wouldn't HAVE to keep bringing it up if YOU wouldn't act like it didn't happen!"

"Guys, this is all very touching but could you please GET ON WITH IT, already!!!" Gerald tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, still waiting impatiently. Neither Arnold nor Helga seemed to notice him, though.

"ME act like it didn't happen?! You're the one who's barely come with two feet of me since the FTi thing—except, of course, to completely manipulate me during the April Fool's dance! Way to go using my secret and that tango so that I wouldn't notice the fact that our floor was slowly turning into a SWIMMING POOL!"

Arnold raised his voice and replied sarcastically. "Oh, and of course YOU were just completely innocent during the whole thing—I mean, it's not like you lied to me about a serious medical condition for two days so that I would be your slave, or anything!"

The two of them were getting closer and closer to each other as this fight was progressing, circling around each other.

Suddenly, Lila and Gerald noticed footsteps on the stairs below. Lila's eyes widened and she quickly whispered to Gerald (who, at this point, was thoroughly intrigued with the fight taking place between the school optimist and the school bully), "Gerald, I'm oh too certain Olga must getting curious about all of the noise up here. I think I should go downstairs and stall her—you and Arnold try and get out of here as soon as possible."

Gerald gave her a quick nod, though he was more interested in waiting for the culmination of the fight occurring in front of him than with taking her advice all that seriously. Lila stood up, quickly made her way to the door and then slipped out.

* * *

Lila met Olga at the halfway point of the stairs. "Oh, Lil' Sis—what was all that shouting about? Did you and Helga get into some kind of fight?" Olga looked genuinely concerned.

Lila smiled, determined to buy Arnold and Gerald as much time as possible. "Oh, don't worry Big Sis, Helga's just—"

A few more muffled yells from Helga's room interrupted Olga's query, and Lila thought fast. "Uh, Helga's just…having a fight with her imaginary friend!"

Lila smiled brightly, but Olga looked skeptical. "Lila, are you sure I shouldn't—" Olga made to ascend the stairs.

Lila stepped in front of her. "Oh, not to worry, Olga—Helga and I had a long talk and I'm oh too certain she's feeling much better. Just give her a few minutes to work some things out on her own and I'm ever so sure she'll be just fine!"

"Well…" Olga put her hand to her chin in thought, "alright, Lil' Sis…If you think that's best…"

Lila beamed. "I'm ever so certain it is, Big Sis. Now, how about we set up some of those wonderful old movies we like so much, and we can watch them with Helga when she's ready to come down?" '_At least a movie will make some noise and hopefully cover up whatever they're saying up there. Oh, I do hope they finish up soon!'_

Olga smiled. "Of course, Lil' Sis—that sounds like a wonderful idea! Come on!"

Both girls walked to the living room, Olga happy about getting the chance to spend some real quality bonding time with her favorite Lil' Sis and, of course, Baby Sister, and Lila happy to have finally left Arnold and Helga alone (well, except for Gerald that was) to figure things out between themselves once and for all.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Helga's room, the fight continued…

"HEY, I only did to YOU what I always do—that's just who I am and frankly, Arnoldo, maybe I wouldn't be so tempted to jerk you around so much if you weren't such an easy target!"

"Helga, my point is that ever since you told me, nothing has changed between us! WHY DO YOU WANT TO FORGET ABOUT IT SO MUCH?!"

"FORGET ABOUT IT?! IT'S THE ONLY THING I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT FOR THE PAST FOUR WEEKS!!!" Helga finally admitted in an explosion of emotion. "You read my last poem Arnoldo—even _you're_ not dense enough to not get what it was about!"

"Hey, so Sid was right—you _did_ read one of her poems!" Gerald chimed in, trying to break the tension with a light comment. Again, though, no one really seemed to take notice of his presence.

"Well—" Arnold stuttered, "maybe if it hadn't been so vague I would have been sure enough that that's what it was about to mention it t—" Suddenly, Arnold blushed and looked at Helga with his eyes wide. "Hey…how did you know that I—"

"Hmpf!" Helga scoffed, a smug grin on her face. "First of all, I've been keeping stuff like that a secret for years so I think I'm pretty decent at figuring out when someone is OBVIOUSLY trying to hide something from me! Second, Arnoldo, you STINK at lying! And third, Arnold my pet, I wasn't 100 percent sure until you just admitted it! HA!" She jabbed in index finger into his still shocked face, a look of triumph in her eyes!

Suddenly, though, Arnold's eyes narrowed causing all smugness to disappear from Helga's face. He clenched his hands at his sides and started walking closer toward Helga who kept moving farther and farther backward in reaction. In a very matter of fact voice he announced, "You know, Helga—I'm really tired of all these games. I don't want to play anymore…"

Helga swallowed hard, her eyes getting wider and wider. She tried to respond in a tough voice but all she could muster was a very weak, "I—I—don't know what you're talking about, Football Head…"

Gerald, meanwhile, was mesmerized by what was taking place before him, and only wished he had some snacks to munch on while enjoying the show.

Arnold let out an infuriated sigh and started yelling again. "_That's_ what I'm talking about, Helga! _That's _exactly it!"

She didn't respond but simply listened, wondering what he would say next.

He put his index finger in her face. "You know, if you had half the guts you let people think you have, you'd finally start being who you really are instead of hiding behind a bunch of empty threats and lies and sarcastic comments! In fact, I don't see any reason why you couldn't tell Gerald or anybody else EVERYTHING right now!" Gerald grinned, hoping that now somebody was finally going to clue him in. Arnold, however, merely continued with his speech. "I mean, at least _I_ have some kind of reasonable excuse for keeping it all a secret—I didn't want to betray your trust! Not to mention," he dropped his hand and glanced away, "part of me still finds it a little hard to believe…"

Suddenly, Arnold grabbed her shoulders again: Helga's face continued to be a mixture of terror and confusion. He took a deep breath and said in a voice that was a mixture of frustration and desperation, "Helga, do you have any idea what it's like to have someone completely challenge everything you know about them—to have every emotion you've ever felt about them suddenly feel like it's based on a lie?"

Helga's expression didn't change for a second, but then suddenly her eyes narrowed and she shot back acidly (and sarcastically) right into his face, "Oh, of course not, Arnold—I have absolutely NO idea what it's like to be on a terrifying emotional roller coaster…to be totally confused by a person you're forced to see everyday! I mean, that entire confession was just a piece of cake for me! So, tell me, Arnold—share you experience: what's it like to get genuinely thrown for a loop for once in your life?!"

Arnold felt his anger return in full force at this sarcastic reply, and finally could no longer control himself. "LIKE THIS!!!"

Arnold looked Helga straight in the eye, gripped her shoulders more firmly, and, before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her in for a full lip-locking kiss!

It was good thing Gerald _didn't_ have any snacks on him because he probably would have choked on them.

* * *

Phoebe Heyerdahl ran down a familiar city street, past several shops she knew all too well, and finally found herself on the stoop of the building that was her destination.

She took a few seconds to catch her breath and then rang the doorbell. After a few seconds, a familiar old man answered. "Hello…oh you're one of Arnold's friends, aren't ya? The smart one who always hangs around with the one with the pink bow and the one eyebrow?"

Phoebe smiled up at Arnold's Grandpa. "Hello Mr. Arnold's Grandpa—is Arnold home? I'd like to speak to him."

Grandpa scratched his chin. "Well, he actually went out just a few minutes ago with Gerald and that smiling girl with the red hair…but he said he'd be back soon? Would you like to wait upstairs with everybody else?"

Phoebe looked at him in confusion. "Huh? I'm sorry but I don't understa—"

Grandpa motioned for her to enter the boarding house. "Oh—well, he told me it was some kind of 'long story'. Anyway, all I know is that he's got about half of your class waiting up in his room for him to come back—I think it's got something to do with that friend of yours…her name's Helga, right?"

Phoebe found this situation very intriguing. "Yes, that's right." She considered her options for a few moments. '_It sounds as though Arnold, Gerald, and Lila might have gone to Helga's house to console her, but I wonder why Arnold would want everybody to remain in his room in the meantime? Besides which, it's highly unlikely that he, Lila, and Gerald would even manage to pass through Helga's front door let alone converse with her directly if Olga is still there. In that case, they should probably be returning here quite soon…and, at any rate, if I wait here I can at least have a chance to talk with our classmates and ascertain their account of what happened to Helga.'_

Phoebe smiled again at Arnold's Grandpa. "I think I _will_ stay. Arnold's room is upstairs, right—the attic?"

"Uh huh. And tell the others I'll be bringing up the sandwiches and cookies soon." He smiled at her.

Phoebe politely nodded and raced up the stairs, eager to confront her fellow fourth graders and hoping that Arnold and the others would return soon.

Grandpa watched her ascend the steps and shook his head back and fourth in amusement, a small grin on his face. "I don't know what those kids are up to but I've got a feeling it's gonna be a _long_ Sunday night."

* * *

Meanwhile, back the Pataki house…

"Okay, Olga—I'll tell Helga we're going to start watching the movies now!" Lila called down to Olga as she stood just outside Helga's room, having opened the door half way.

Smiling, she walked in and shut the door behind her only to be met with a VERY interesting sight indeed: Arnold and Helga in a full mouth to mouth kiss, and Gerald on the floor beside his chair, his eyes completely bugged out and his mouth agape.

Lila's mouth dropped open too as her eyes returned to Arnold and Helga…who were continuing to embrace.

'_There—maybe now she'll see what its like?!' _Arnold thought to himself in anger. Yet, as the kiss continued and his fury cooled a bit, new thoughts began to pop into his head. '_Wait a minute…WHAT AM I DOING?!?! I…I…I shouldn't have done that to her! I mean, I didn't want to hurt her feelings or anything…I just wanted her to know what it's like to have someone surprise you like that. Hmm…maybe I should stop… I MEAN—OF __**COURSE**__ I should stop… Why __haven't__ I stopped yet, anyway? I mean, I understand why __she__ hasn't stopped (Hmpf, I'll show her a 'lousy kisser!') Hmm…it's strange, but somehow I feel a lot calmer…at least, not angry anymore. It's like there's been all this tension building up between us over this weekend…actually over this past month…actually for a while, I guess…and now it's going away…'_

Suddenly, he felt Helga push against his lips hard, as though the shock of what he had just done had finally subsided and she was ready to start taking part in the act as well. At this movement, before he knew what he was thinking, a very interesting new thought suddenly came to Arnold's head. '_I haven't felt this happy since I woke up this morning thinking about her in my bed—'_

Arnold's eyes widened as the memory resurfaced and he instantly pulled away from Helga, feeling utterly mortified though no one could know what he had been thinking but him.

Breathing heavily, he looked to Helga to see her reaction.

She had a dreamy look in her eyes and the first words that came out of her freshly kissed mouth were, "Wow…this really is some dream…"

A few high-pitched squeaking sounds came out of Gerald's mouth as though he was trying to speak but couldn't muster it.

Lila merely exclaimed, "Oh my!" and put her hand over her mouth, blushing at the sight.

"Um…Um…!" Arnold stuttered, completely unsure how to even begin!

He approached a very limp looking Helga and touched her shoulder. "Um…Helga? Helga?"

"Mmm hmm…" she faintly managed.

"Uh, like I said, we came here to say we're sorry, so uh...we're sorry and um…" Arnold didn't want to just leave Helga, but he felt like he really needed to get out of there so that he could think things over (not to mention, so that he could try and make some vain attempt at explaining his actions to his best friend without entirely giving away Helga's secret.)

Helga calmly took his hand off of her shoulder and replied in a dreamy voice, "Arnold, will you excuse me for a moment…"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Uh…sure…"

Helga serenely walked across the room to her closet, stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

Arnold, Gerald and Lila just stared at the closed closet door and tried to listen for what she might be doing in there. All they heard at first though was some wood creaking (like someone walking on a wood floor or up some steps…or a ladder?). Suddenly, though, they heard what sounded like muffled, fast talking, and could see under the crack in the door that a strange series of colored lights appeared to be flicking on and off. Then a sound like some books falling reached their ears, followed by what sounded like a very high-pitched squeal and a distinctly girlish sigh.

This went on for about five minutes, during which time neither of them spoke a word to one another. Finally, Helga emerged from the closet, shutting the door tight behind her, a look of total contention still on her face.

Arnold was the first to cautiously approach her. "Helga…?"

Helga was silent for a second, then slapped herself very hard in the face, shook her head and instantly resumed her classic scowl and gruff voice. "What?"

"Uh…" Arnold considered questioning her about her actions in the closet but decided that it might not be the best thing to do under the current circumstances. "Nothing…" he finished.

"Good! Okay, so—you apologize, I accept, great! Now, let's see about getting you three out of here!" Helga approached the window again, ready to judge the drop distance afresh.

"WHAT?!?!"

Gerald had finally come out of his state of total shock. He looked absolutely flabbergasted.

"Doi, Geraldo—we have to get you out of here before my parents get back or my sister gets wise! Now, come on, help me tie knots in this sheet so you guys can use it as a rope!" Helga began to strip the sheet from her bed.

"DID I JUST—COULD SOMEONE PLEASE—DIDN'T YOU GUYS JUST—?!?!" He was pointing in several different directions, his eyes entirely bugged out still.

"Gerald," Lila tried in a calm voice, approaching him, "Perhaps it would be best if we got the two of you out of here first and then discussed things later…"

Gerald scowled at her and stated in a very firm voice, "NO! I want to know what's going on once and for all, and I want to know now!" He walked over to Helga's bed and grabbed Helga by the arm. "Helga, I wanna talk to you alone!"

Helga looked taken aback, but tried to wave him off. "Oh, put a sock in it, Geraldo!"

Gerald wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer, though. "Helga, either I get to talk to you right now or I'm going downstairs and getting your sister and telling her we're up here!"

Helga was more than ready to try calling his bluff and already had one of her hands clenched into a lethal fist. Lila, realizing that something very bad could happen if no one intervened, grabbed Arnold's arm. "Arnold, come with me."

"But—" he began to protest.

She shook her head and whispered to him. "Arnold, I think Helga and Gerald have some things they need to work out and I'm ever so sure that's things will go a lot smoother from now on if we leave them alone right now to do it."

Arnold looked from Lila to Gerald and Helga a few times. Come to think of it, Gerald couldn't seem to get the idea of 'Helga the bully' out of his head, and Helga didn't seem to trust or even like Gerald much at all for that matter. He had tried to explain Helga's good qualities to Gerald but it just hadn't seemed to work… '_Well…__I__ figured out that Helga has a different side from talking with her…maybe that's what Gerald needs too?' _Finally, he sighed and turned to Lila. "Okay…"

Lila smiled at him, and then addressed Gerald and Helga. "We'll just be across the hall hiding in the bathroom for a few minutes."

"Hey, wait a minute, I never said—" Helga began, a slight trace of panic in her eyes as she saw that Arnold was leaving her.

"Oh, OL-GA!" Gerald called. Helga slapped her hand over his mouth, a look of panic on her face.

"Okay, okay! Sheesh, Hair Boy, I get it! Fine—we'll talk! But don't say I never did ya any favors!"

And with that, Lila led Arnold from the room, leaving Helga and Gerald alone to 'talk.'

* * *

**A/N:**

Alright guys, that was the latest installment of "Tutoring Arnold" and I hope you all enjoyed it! I know I'm kind of milking Sunday here, but there's some things I really wanted to do and still want to do (I'm predicting there'll be about 3 more chapters after this, the last one probably more of an epilogue thing). Now as for the next update: you're probably going to have to give me at least another three if not four weeks :( I promise I'll try and make it as soon as possible, but that's what it looks like for now (don't worry though—I know exactly how I want this story to end so I won't need to spend a ton of time working out the plot line; it's just a matter of finding time to put everything on paper, lol). Anyway, as always please R&R, it's much appreciated, lol :) So, until next time this is Azure129 saying, as always, AXH 4 EVER!!! Happy Reading!


	8. There's a Reason Doors HaveLocks,People!

_Reposted with grammar edits 1/5/2010._

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**A/N:**

Hello again, everybody! No, you didn't get an email saying that something was updated because I somehow in the last 18 hours managed to write the next chapter, lol (though if I didn't have all this homework, I probably would have done just that, lol ;) ). It's just…I got one or two questions about Olga's reaction at the end, so I went back and looked at it and decided to change it just SLIGHTLY (you see, there's this awkward moment I'm planning for the beginning of the next chapter and [without giving too much away let's just say I think I might have jumped the gun a 'little']). Anyway, the only part of this chapter that has any change at all is the part at the very end where Olga opens the door, just so you don't go skimming through all 10,000 plus words of this chapter looking for some new plot twist or something :) Alright, that's all—and a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far; you guys are awesome!

**A/N:**

Uh, hi guys! (silence) Okay, okay, I'm REALLY sorry this installment took me about twice as long as I said it would. I just didn't realize how much work it would be trying to write this fic and keep up with my school work, social life, etc. all at the same time. But I have no intention of abandoning this story, believe me ;) ! I'm just going to need a little more time between installments. Also, this chapter was a little tricky for me—I had a basic idea of what I wanted to happen, but there were a lot of details that needed to get hammered out, a lot of characterization that needed to be redone, etc. I didn't want to just stick you guys with some half –baked thing just to get the chapter up on time. But, after careful consideration and some serious editing and retooling, I think I've finally found something that works for me, and I hope you guys all like it too :) So here it is, submitted for your approval (sorry, I had a bit of an 'Are You Afraid of the Dark?' flashback there, lol), and as always please read and review! (Oh, and for those of you who have reviewed my last chapter but who I haven't responded to, I promise I'll get to you asap because I really appreciate your efforts to tell me your opinions about my writing, and I really want to let you all know that I am listening to your comments :)).

Oh and per a few complaints via the reviews, I promise from here-on-out much fewer to no random A/N's in the chapters :)

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 8:**

**There's a Reason Doors Have Locks, People!**

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"Oh, Lil' Sis, there you are! I was just coming to get you and Helga—I thought I heard someone call my name?"

Lila inhaled sharply, surprised by Olga's sudden presence on the stairs before her. However, she tried to cover it up with a small cough and a smile. "Oh…um, of course, Big Sis! That was just Helga telling me how it's ever so wonderful to have you as a real big sister. And she's ever so excited about the movies…Um, she's just…" Lila thought fast, "…cleaning her room up first! You know, getting her chores out of the way so we can spend the rest of the night having just oodles of fun!"

Olga smiled up at Lila. "Well, that's just wonderful, Lila! I knew talking to you would do the trick!" Suddenly, though, she put her hand to her chin and looked a bit concerned. "I do wish Mummy and Daddy would get home soon, though, so that we could all talk about this as a family too. I really think we need to spend more quality time together…"

Lila smiled nervously, torn between trying to block Helga's door (behind which Gerald was hidden) and the bathroom door (which she had barely managed to close behind Arnold before Olga had appeared on the steps.) '_Oh…this whole thing has really become such a problem...I just hope ever so much that it was the right idea coming here in the first place…'_

Olga continued, her face brightening a bit as she talked. "You know, Lila, there's a whole article in a magazine I picked up this morning on the importance for children of strong relationships with parents and siblings. I think I should show it to Mummy and Daddy when they get home—I know they try their best but sometimes I don't think they really understand Helga very much…I know she's a little stubborn sometimes, but she really is a wonderful Baby Sister…"

Lila's smile widened as she tried to maintain her cover. '_At least looking for her magazine might get Olga back downstairs… Oh, I do hate lying to her just ever so much! I just wish Helga could hear what she's saying right now, though—Olga really __does__ care about her…'_

Lila cleared her throat, "That sounds like an oh too perfect idea, Olga!" Lila glanced back at Helga's door quickly. "Well, I guess you should go look for it—Helga and I will be downstairs soon…"

Suddenly, though, Olga began to ascend the stairs. "Now let's see…did I leave it in the kitchen? No…hmm, I think I might have left it in the bathroom while I was cleaning this morning…"

Lila's eyes widened and, before she knew what she was doing, she jumped in front of the bathroom door, obviously panicked, but a sweet smile still plastered on her face. "NO!"

Olga eyed her Lil' Sis very curiously and stopped approaching the bathroom door. "Lila, silly…what's gotten into you?"

Lila thought as quickly as she could and said the first thing that came to her mind. "Um…well…Helga's in the bathroom!"

Olga blinked. "But, I thought you said she was cleaning her room?"

Lila's eyes widened considerably as she realized her mistake. "Oh…um…"

Olga raised a suspicious eyebrow at Lila and tapped her foot impatiently, hands on her hips. "Lila, what's going on here?"

Lila considered for a second and then blurted out the first decent thing to come to her mind. "Well, Big Sis', I promised I wouldn't tell but…" She sighed dramatically, meanwhile trying to recall the few details she had managed to get out of Arnold while they had been traveling to Helga's house about what had happened between the two Pataki sisters earlier that day, "Helga's making a surprise for you in there." Lila relaxed her posture, trying not to appear as anxious as she felt.

Olga looked at her curiously. "But Lila, what surprise could Helga possibly—"

Lila smiled. "Well, she feels just ever so bad about having turned down your offer to help her with her hair and make-up today…so she's getting together some things so that we can have a make-over party along with watching the movies!"

Olga's face practically lit up. "OH!" she squealed and pulled Lila away from the door, hugging her fiercely as tears came to her eyes, causing her mascara to run. "Lil' Sis! You're just so wonderful for helping me with Helga like this!" She then stood up straight and clapped her hands together in elation. "And I just know that we'll have so much fun tonight!"

Lila sighed, feeling very relieved that she had managed to avert Olga yet again that day. "Oh, you're ever so welcome, Olga, and I'm oh too sure you're right!" She grabbed one of Olga's hands and walked with her back to the top of the stairs. "Well, I'm certain that for now you should just go look in the kitchen for the magazine, but if we happen to see it in the bathroom we'll bring it down with us!" She smiled up at Olga.

Olga gave her one final hug and then pranced down the stairs calling back, "Thank you, Lil' Sis!" as she disappeared going in the direction of the kitchen.

Lila finally let out a big sigh and her content face changed to an expression of exhaustion. '_I just hope that after all this, Arnold finally starts like-liking Helga…'_ As her thought continued, a small half-grin came to her face. '_Though after that kiss I think it's oh too obvious that he feels something for her…' _And on that note, Lila turned around and briskly walked back to the bathroom to wait with Arnold while Helga and Gerald were having their discussion…

* * *

"BE _QUIET_!" Helga whispered loudly, throwing her hand over Gerald's mouth. Gerald made some muffled protests at first, but then shut-up as he too heard voices just outside of the room…neither of which sounded like Arnold's.

After a few seconds, though, it sounded as though one of the speakers (Olga, probably, he realized) was finally heading back downstairs. Then there was silence again.

Helga removed her hand from Gerald's mouth, shoving him backwards a bit as she did it, and walked towards her door to listen and make sure no one was out there. He straightened himself up, and glared at her in annoyance though she kept her back to him.

"Good," she said to no one in particular, "she's gone…"

Gerald was about to speak but suddenly Helga turned around to face him, a cunning smile on her face. Slowly she approached him, cracking her knuckles. "Not a good move Geraldo…not a good move at all…"

Gerald swallowed hard, but tried to maintain his cool (though his voice cracked a bit as he asked), "Wh…what do you mean…?"

Helga smiled deviously, grinding her right fist into the palm of her left hand. "No witnesses…" Gerald's eyes widened considerably as she said this. She approached him. "I haven't forgotten that you were the one who told Olga that I was at Arnold's…Do you have any idea what her coming there's done to my reputation? I can't just let that go…"

Gerald backed away from her, swallowing hard. "Helga…listen, um, can't we talk this ou—"

"Why did you tell Olga I was at Arnold's?!" she suddenly snapped.

Gerald blinked, unprepared for the question. Instantly, he tried to give a response that would be truthful without simultaneously justifying Helga in punching his teeth out of his skull. "Sh-sh-she was just driving around the neighborhood and she saw me and I guess she recognized me from school. She said she was looking for Arnold's address and when I asked her what she needed it for she said you had ditched her that morning and said something about going over there. Then she drove off—honest!"

Without a pause and still closing in on him, Helga snapped again, "And everybody else? Did they all conveniently happen to 'drive by' you too, or is another excuse for all of them being there?"

Gerald swallowed hard, unable to comprehend why the answers to these questions would be so important to her. "Well, you see, Arnold made it sound like you were only gonna be tutoring him on Saturday, so I thought something might be…er, wrong…if you were going back there again today. You know, you do tend to threaten Arnold a lot…"

She glared darkly at him, and he swallowed hard and quickly continued. "Anyway…I just figured I'd give him some kind of way out by having everyone stop by and say they needed him for something—like an excuse. That way he wouldn't have to…um…'upset' you by asking you to leave."

At this point Gerald had backed into his former seat and actually fallen over in fear as Helga continued to walk threateningly toward him. She stopped advancing and glared at him. '_Well, that's one way to get some answers out of tall hair boy…that little __jerk__!' _Helga hadn't been intending to actually hit the dark-haired boy cowering in front of her—she'd just wanted to get a straight answer about what had happened at Arnold's house…and maybe to put a good scare in him. '_He's ticked me off so many times today, though, that I'd have every right to give him a good sock if I really wanted to…'_

Helga grinned maliciously, enjoying her brief power over Gerald (especially since he had pulled that trump card on her with threatening to call Olga before). "You know, I could flatten you before Lila and Arnold would even think about coming back in here…before Olga could hear you scream…" She squatted down and got right into his face, in full bully mode.

Gerald flinched, quite ready to give screaming a shot on the off chance that Olga might hear him anyway. Suddenly, though, (deciding to put the bully act on hold) Helga stood up; she sighed and her face became much less threatening (though it still possessed an air of annoyance). "…BUT…I won't…" Unexpectedly, she held her hand out to help him off the floor.

Gerald just stared at the extended arm in front of him like it was a foreign object.

Helga gave an exasperated sigh. "What—have you been taking lessons from Arnold or something? It's a 'hand' hair boy—grab it and pull yourself up! Sheesh, I'm not going to bite you or anything!"

Gerald blinked a few times as he gazed at the face of his tormentor, then finally came out of his shock. Unenthusiastically, he finally grabbed Helga's hand and pulled himself up, eyeing her strangely.

"Hmph!" Helga turned away from him and sat in Lila's now vacant seat.

Gerald rubbed the back of his neck and cautiously sat down in his former chair. There was a moment of silence, and then Gerald spoke-up somewhat sarcastically. "Um…thanks…I guess…"

Helga whipped her head around and eyed him angrily, not entirely liking his tone. However, she didn't make a move to hurt him again but instead merely announced, "Yeah well, it's not like I don't _want_ to pound you Geraldo_, believe me_!" Helga thought back to her phone conversation with her best friend from earlier and muttered to herself, "If I hadn't promised Phoebe…"

Gerald's ears perked up at the name. "Wait, what was that about Phoebe?"

Helga blinked, realizing that she probably shouldn't have mentioned that little detail considering the fact that her best friend had a big crush on Gerald. '_I just wish she'd believe me about the fact that he likes her too—I mean, Doi, it's so obvious!'_ She tried her best to brush it off. "Nothing, nothing, now quit trying to change the subject and start 'talking' or whatever it is you want from me before I change my mind!" She raised a fist in his direction, causing Gerald to swallow hard again, though he tried to cover it up.

Gerald took a deep breath and tried to call on some of the anger he'd had before Helga had threatened to kill him. "Whatever, girl… Anyway, I wanna talk to you about what's going on with you and Arnold!"

Helga crossed her arms in front of her chest and tried to maintain her commanding scowl, though she was more nervous than she had been all day. '_Oh, Crimeny, he knows! I've gotten too used to dealing with Arnold—no one could be as dense as him and it's made me sloppy! Okay, Helga, old girl, just stay calm and don't give him anything he doesn't already have… Maybe he knows and maybe he doesn't but __you're__ not going to be the one to tell him!'_

Helga glared at him. "I'm his poetry tutor Geraldo, or didn't my sister announce it loud enough for you and everybody else to hear when you lead her to my house like a bloodhound fingering a fox?!"

Helga hoped the reminder of why she was angry at him would make Gerald back down again, but it was to no avail: Gerald was on a roll and he wasn't about to lose it! "Helga, _please_!" He stood up, hands on his hips. "Dragging me and Lila five blocks to your house? Quarantining everybody in his room and ordering them to _apologize_ to you? _KISSING_ you?!" Helga glared again as she noticed a dramatic shudder come over Gerald as he said this last sentence. He regained his composure quickly, though, and continued. "Pataki, I think it's pretty obvious what's going on here—I just can't believe you'd do it!"

Helga crossed her legs, firmly determined not to give him anything. "Oh yeah, well, tell me what's 'going on here' hair boy, because I'd like to know myself!"

Gerald sighed, unable to believe what he was about to say. "I don't know how it happened but there's only one explanation…" he sat down heavily on his chair, and closed his eyes in despair. "My man, Arnold… is in love with you."

"Heh!" Helga couldn't help it—a small, high-pitched laugh escaped her lips and she actually had to put her hand over her mouth to hide the uncontrollable smile that had suddenly appeared there. '_Wow, and I thought this was going to be hard—Gerald's even more mixed up than Arnold!' _She considered for a moment just informing him of the fact that he was dead wrong, then retrieving Arnold and Lila from the bathroom and finally getting them all out of her house once and for all. Suddenly, though, a much more entertaining idea popped into her head. '_Why not let him talk? What's the worst that he could do—remind me of the few moments of attention I actually got from Arnold this weekend? Besides, I'd __love__ to hear the logic behind this one…heh, heh!'_

She removed her hand from her mouth and tried to keep her laughter under control. As she was about to ask Gerald how he had arrived at his conclusion, though, he cut her off, scowling and pointing at her accusingly. "I just can't believe you're mean enough to actually lead him on like this though, Helga—that's REALLY LOW, even for YOU!"

Helga's mouth went instantly agape and she exclaimed in an absolutely flabbergasted voice. "You're KIDDING?! _ME_ lead _HIM_ on?!"

Gerald stood up again and approached her, still scowling. "Yeah, that's right! I'm not sure what happened between the two of you or what this big 'secret' is that you guys keep talking about, but all I know is that sometime in the last few days he fell in love with you and you just seem to be stringing him along!!!"

Helga stood up, completely enraged and gesticulating wildly as she spoke/ "I—HE—YOU—GRRRR!!!" She growled in total frustration and threw herself down on her bed. She wanted to defend herself (she wouldn't have minded so much if Gerald had accused her of toying with any of their other classmates, but _no_ _way_ was he going to accuse her of trying to hurt Arnold), but she didn't want to tell Gerald her secret: it was the most maddening feeling she'd ever experienced.

Gerald approached the bed, still fueled by his anger. "You know, Helga, he's been telling me all this time how you've got some kind of 'secret side' that no one sees—how you're really a decent, good person who just acts tough because she wants respect, and for a while I was starting to believe him! But what you did to him with that kiss wasn't a joke Helga—it was downright _mean_!"

Helga instantly sat up and scoffed. "What do you mean what _I_ did to him during that kiss? _He's_ the one who kissed _me_!"

Gerald rolled his eyes. "Exactly—what more proof do you need that he's in love with you (though I don't know _where_ he got the idea to do something like _that_ from?)" At this point, Helga blushed slightly though Gerald didn't notice. He continued his rant. "And then you just start kissing him back, like you actually want to or something and make him think he's got a chance!" Gerald raised an accusing finger at her. "_Then_ you randomly go into your closet (frankly I don't know what that was about and I don't _want_ to know), and you come out and act like it didn't happen! Sheesh, Helga—he actually likes you and all you can do is try and find ways to break his heart!"

At this point Gerald was pretty worked up, and Helga was staring at him wide-eyed, unsure of how to respond; she wanted to tell him off but what he had said about acting like this last kiss never happened reminded her painfully of the circumstances of her and Arnold's previous kiss on the top of the FTi building only a few short weeks ago…and her own slightly broken heart.

"Shut-up, Gerald, you don't know what you're talking about…"

"Oh, I don't, don't I?" He replied sarcastically. Then he added (still enraged at the idea of Helga hurting someone as good as Arnold so deeply), "But look at who I'm talking to—it's Helga G. Pataki: a girl who probably wouldn't recognize love if it came up and bit her in the behind!"

Helga swallowed hard and resumed her scowl, though she could feel tears burning behind her eyes. "I said SHUT UP, Gerald!!!" She made to grab him but he moved before she could.

"No, Helga, I'm sick of letting you off the hook! I don't care what Arnold thinks or what 'secret' you told him that made him fall for you, but you're gonna tell him the truth as soon as he comes back here, got it?!"

Helga was becoming hysterical as she tried at all costs to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. "YOU WANT THE TRUTH, HAIR BOY?! YOU COULDN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!"

"TRY ME!"

"I…I…" Helga wanted to just say it so badly—she could feel it sticking her throat, weighing down on her heart…but she was still so afraid of what it would mean to just let it go.

"'YOU' what?!" Gerald shouted back sarcastically. " 'You're' sorry?, 'You're' gonna hit me? 'You're' gonna move on to another one of our classmates after all this is over? You know, Helga, you're really some piece of work!"

"ARNOLD'S NOT IN LOVE WITH ME, YOU IDIOT!!!" She stood up and shouted it at the top of her lungs (which would probably have been a bad thing if Olga hadn't just that moment been outside on the front stoop talking with two very familiar figures…)

She took a few deep breaths and then calmly sat herself on her bed, still scowling.

Gerald sat down on the bed opposite her. A few moments of silence followed during which he eyed Helga very carefully, searching her to make sure of her sincerity. He was expecting a smirk, a cackle, a scoff—something that would let him know that Helga was just playing dumb and that no matter what she said she really was using Arnold. However, all he could see was frustration in her face…and, if possible, a bit of indignation?

He took a deep breath and, remembering his best friend's assurances of Helga's hidden good nature, decided to try a different approach to the problem. Calmly, he began. "Helga…look, I'm just looking out for Arnold: he's been hurt by a lot of girls in the past, and I don't wanna see it happen again. You don't think he's in love with you? Fine. You're angry at me? That's fine too. But could you at least clue me in on what _has_ been going on between you two?"

Helga didn't respond, though Gerald could tell from the pensive look in her still scowling eyes that she was listening and thinking over what he was saying.

He continued. "Look, Helga, Arnold's always told me whenever he's had a problem so normally I'd just ask _him_, but he seems to think he's gonna 'betray your trust' or something if he fills me in this time. Now, I don't know what this 'secret' of yours has to do with what's been eating at him lately, but I don't like having to just sit by and watch my best friend suffer."

Gerald waited for her to respond again, but to no avail. She continued to sit there, a familiar scowl on her face, lost in thought. Gerald wasn't sure what to do next. '_Hmm…maybe she's still upset about Olga…or,' _he remembered their class still waiting to apologize to Helga at Arnold's house, '_maybe we really did hurt her…I guess I should apologize like Arnold said. I mean, if he can like her and if Lila can like her and if Phoebe can like her,' _Gerald smiled to himself_, 'then there's gotta be __some__ good in her, right?' _Gerald cleared his throat and said plainly, "Okay, Helga, you win. I'm sorry—really. I didn't mean to make it seem like we all can't stand you when I told everybody to show up at the boarding house. I was just looking out for Arnold like I am right now…"

He stood up and walked in front of her, cautiously extending his hand. "So, what do you say: truce?"

There was a pause during which Gerald could tell Helga was doing some serious considering. Then finally she turned around to face him with a half-smile on her face. "Truce." She grabbed his hand to shake it, making sure to squeeze it as hard as she possibly could (just as a little reminder that, truce or not, she was still boss).

Trying to maintain his cool, Gerald smiled weakly as she finally released his hand from her vice grip. He shook it several times to get the blood flowing again, then raised an eyebrow at her.

"What? You're the one who wanted to shake hands, hair boy!" She smirked.

He shook it off, more concerned with the fact that he finally seemed to be on some kind of level ground with Helga G. Pataki. He sat back down on the bed next to her, feeling a bit more confident, and asked somewhat jokingly (though seriously hoping to finally receive a straight answer), "So…any chance I get to know the secret now?"*

Helga smirked, stood up and replied lightly, "You know that rumor about Stinky being a vampire? Well, I'm the slayer destined to destroy him and restore the balance between good and evil at P.S. 118."

Gerald shot up off the bed and began to exclaim (thoroughly annoyed at this relapse in her attitude), "HELGA! If you're not gonna be serious—"

She cut him off. "Oh come Geraldo, look at it from my point of view! So what if we have a truce—we're not even friends really! You obviously don't like _me_ considering the fact you just assume the worst about me in every possible situation and, quite frankly, I'm getting a little sick of you and your high-horse today myself. I mean, _Arnold's_ not even supposed to know what 'the secret' is and it's _about him_, and the only reason Lila found out is because she is just the most manipulative little—"

Gerald cut her off. "You see, that's the part that confuses me the most—that it's _your_ secret but that it's _about_ _Arnold_…"

Helga swallowed hard and instantly clammed up and sat herself back down, avoiding eye contact with her beloved's best friend next to her.

Gerald took a deep breath and decided to try one more plea. "Helga, look, I really don't care what your secret is and even if I found out I honestly wouldn't tell anybody…" Then he added, with a touch of annoyance to his voice, "Although you've never given _me_ an easy time about any of _my_ secrets or problems, like the time you and everybody else found out I couldn't ride a bike, or the time my voice changed before the big spring concert, or…" He realized he was getting sidetracked and shook his head to clear it. "Anyway, Helga, it sounds like from what I could understand from that fight you guys had that you've been pretty alone yourself with whatever this thing is. And if you're as good a person as Arnold seems to think you are, I don't think you'd want him to have to go through it all alone too…"

He was speaking very sincerely at this point and, to his surprise, thought for an instant that he saw a twinge of guilt in Helga's eye.

Helga considered his argument. '_I guess I never thought about it like that—it's not really __my__ secret anymore, it's __our__ secret. Arnold shouldn't have to suffer just because I'm…I'm…,' _Helga mentally gave a defeated sigh,_ 'scared…I guess I am scared, aren't I? Helga G. Pataki—Queen of the Fourth Grade and afraid of nothing, except the entire fourth grade that is.' _Suddenly, she felt a wave of courage and determination come over her._ 'Well, not anymore! Not if it's going to hurt Arnold! After all of the mocking and taunting and torture I've put him through over the years, he had every right to get back at me and tell the world about my feelings but he didn't no matter how much it all confused him. I owe him for everything he's put up with, and for everything he's done for me—I can't let him be alone like I've been…never.'_

Helga continued to consider things for a few seconds, during which Gerald continued to watch her, waiting for a response. He noticed that her eyes were narrowed again, but more like she was in deep thought than angry about something. After a few more seconds, he saw a small half-smile come to her lips, and suddenly she mumbled under her breath, "Phoebe sure knows how to pick 'em…"

"What was that, Helga?" Gerald thought he heard Phoebe's name again and instantly his ears perked up.

"Hmm?" Helga came out of her thoughts and looked at him. Suddenly, she realized that she must have spoken out loud, and attempted to change the subject for her best friend's sake. "Oh…nothing, nothing, heh, heh. " She tugged nervously at her collar and swallowed, very unsure about what she was thinking of doing right now.

Helga genuinely wasn't sure how to begin; the only other times she'd let people in on her secret they had either figured it out on their own or she had blurted it out in a moment of frustration and passion. Neither of those things seemed to be about to happen, so she decided to just start slow, hinting around it and secretly hoping she wouldn't have to give 'too' much away. As she spoke, she tried to remind herself that anything she might reveal would be all for Arnold's sake.

"Um, Gerald…look…you remember the whole FTi thing right? You know, you and Arnold trying to 'save the neighborhood' from the 'evil clutches' of Sheck, yada yada yada?"

Gerald raised an eyebrow at her and replied sarcastically, "Yeah, I 'vaguely' recall it…"

Helga swallowed hard, stood up and began pacing her floor, aware that she was just stalling for time. "Well…do you remember how when you pulled up in the bus in front of the FTi building to get Arnold, I was kind of randomly there too?"

Gerald's eyes widened with interest. '_Hmm…come to think of it, she never __did__ answer me when I asked her what she was doing there_…'

Helga's pacing had taken her back over to the two chairs Lila and Gerald had been sitting in, and she began to tap her fingers on the top of one of their backs as she spoke, still sounding slightly nervous. "And um…do you remember how Arnold was about two minutes late meeting you?"

Gerald didn't want to risk annoying her and having her shut him out again, but he felt like she was dancing around whatever it was she was trying to say. "Yeah…um, Helga? What does all this have to do with—"

Helga cut him off, wanting to keep talking while she still had the courage. She quickly announced, "Well, he was late because he was with me, okay!" She turned around and looked at Gerald, her face caught between a look of defiance and…fear?

Gerald studied her closely, aware that (in her opinion) she had just given away something big. However, he was still confused by what exactly her outburst was supposed to mean. "Helga…uh, I'm sorry but I still don't under—"

"Grrr!" Helga exclaimed, her scowl returning. She stormed toward Gerald and grabbed him by his shirt collar, surprising the fourth grader and causing his eyes to widen in worry. "Hello, Geraldo! That's where I told him 'the secret!'"

Gerald swallowed hard and tried to maintain his cool. "Which was _what_ again, exactly?"

"THAT I…THAT HE…" Helga's voice faltered a little as she searched for the best words to say what she had to say, still remembering that it was all for Arnold.

However, on the brink of finally telling Gerald Johanssen that she was undeniably in love with his best friend, a 'much better' idea came to Helga's mind: a way to let him in on some of what must have been confusing Arnold without entirely spilling her guts. Cunningly, she thought to herself, '_Arnold's just confused about the fact that I'd do something so nice for him, that I'd care enough about him to put myself on the line to help him—so that's all he really needs to talk to Gerald about, right?' _Helga smiled to herself, impressed by her own logic. '_And that means all Geraldo has to know is that I __helped__ Arnold, not that I __love__ him. Besides,' _she continued to herself,_ 'the only reason Arnold would ever want to talk to Gerald about my real secret would be if he started questioning his 'feelings' for me or something.' _For a moment she actually allowed herself to entertain the possibility of this thought, but then returned to reality. '_Yeah, __that's__ gonna happen…between my crazy outbursts, random mood swings, and occasional blowing up in his face, I've really 'wooed' him today_.'

Putting this thought behind her and thoroughly satisfied with her 'brilliant alternative' to revealing her secret, Helga finally announced with a sigh and a 'sincere' voice, "Gerald, I…was Deep Voice." And with that, Helga theatrically threw herself on her bed a few feet away from him, very confident in her decision.

Gerald blinked in surprise. "Oh, uh…well, that's, I mean…" He raised an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

Helga closed her eyes and nodded dramatically.

"Well, um…thanks, I guess…" Gerald rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to respond to this new information.

Helga sat up. "Yeah, well, don't get all mushy on me, 'pal.' "

She put an extra sarcastic emphasis on the last word, though Gerald was so preoccupied with this new information about Helga's alter ego that he didn't really notice. Without thinking he began to ask, "But, why—"

Helga knew that this question was coming and cut him off with her already-prepared response. "Crimeny, why is it so hard to believe that maybe I wanted our 'happy' little neighborhood to stay together just as much as you or Football Head?! I mean, sheesh, your best friend asked me the same thing like four times when he finally figured out it was me giving you guys all those tips! I _can_ just be a helpful person if I want to, you know: it's a free country!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Hmpf—so, now you know, and you can go and make the confused little Football Head 'feel better' since he just can't seem to get that _he's_ not the _only one_ capable of 'doing the right thing,' or that I don't 'completely' hate his guts."

Gerald was silent for a few seconds as he took her motives in; the fact that Helga had been Deep Voice was definitely a 'secret' (at least to him) and it definitely involved Arnold ('_Well, that explains that piece of the puzzle…'_)… But, still, there was something nagging at him: some kind of inconsistency that he couldn't put his finger on. He noticed that Helga had an eyebrow raised in anticipation of what he would say (and, unknown to him, whether or not he would buy her explanation of 'the secret').

"So—"

Suddenly, though, Helga's door opened…

* * *

"Lila? _Lila_?!" Arnold whispered to the shut bathroom door in front of him. Both fourth graders had been quietly walking across the hall from Helga's room when, all of a sudden, he'd felt a hard push and found himself in the bathroom alone. He was about to call out again when suddenly he heard from the hallway Lila speaking to another voice that sounded much older. He quickly quieted down and crouched behind the sink just in case Olga Pataki happened to walk in despite whatever Lila might be doing to keep her out.

After a minute or two, though, he heard silence in the hallway and muffled footsteps heading down the stairs. The doorknob began to twist and Arnold held his breath, hoping that Lila would be the one to walk in…

He gave a sigh of relief as he saw her enter the room and close the door firmly behind her. As he stood up from behind the sink, though, Arnold noticed that she looked a little frazzled. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub and Arnold walked over to her, an eyebrow raised.

"Hey, Lila…are you okay?"

Lila took a deep breath and addressed Arnold, seeming to calm down a little. "Don't worry, Arnold, I'll be ever so much better once this whole thing is over with." She sighed in a bit of distress. "It's just, I truly want to help Helga but at the same time I'm oh too certain that lying just feels ever so wrong to me."

Arnold smiled and sat down next to her on the edge of the tub. "Lila, I really appreciate all the help you've given me and Gerald—we could never have gotten in here without it. "

Lila smiled pleasantly, seeming to be back to her usual calm and happy self. "You're welcome, Arnold."

Arnold sighed, feeling a little guilty about putting Lila through all of this all because she'd stopped by his house for a textbook. "And thanks for backing me up back in my room about Helga… You were the only other person who even seemed to realize that she's really not so bad…"

Lila continued smiling. "Oh, Arnold, I'm ever so sure that it was the least I could do."

After this exchange there were several awkward moments of silence. Somehow, without the added complications of having Helga and Gerald in the room, there just didn't seem much to talk about between them. In fact, now that Arnold thought about it, he wasn't even sure how long they were supposed to stay here to let Helga and Gerald talk things out. '_Should we just wait a few minutes and go back in? Will Helga come get us? I just hope she's not pounding him in there or anything…'_ This last thought he couldn't help but add considering the tension between his best friend and his…his… '_Come to think about it, what __is__ Helga to me at this point, anyway? Well, I guess I consider her a friend and I like her a lot but she's not my 'best' friend…I guess that just makes her my 'girl' friend…I mean, __friend__ who's a __girl__!' Yeah…yeah, that's it!')_

Wanting to move away from these thoughts, and to break the silence, Arnold suddenly asked Lila the first question that came to his mind. "So, Lila…um, you've known for a few months now, right?"

Lila turned back to him, looking somewhat confused, and then realized what he was talking about. "Hmm…oh, you mean about Helga's secret? Yes, about that long… And, she told you a month ago like she said, right?"

Arnold blushed as the memory of Helga's confession came back to him. "Um…yeah…while we were saving the neighborhood…"

Lila looked intrigued. "May I ask how it happened, Arnold, if it's not too rude? I'm ever so curious! When she told me about it, it sounded like she'd never risk letting you know for anything…"

Arnold blushed even deeper and gave the condensed version of the story. "Well, there's not much to tell…I caught her doing something to help me and Gerald save the neighborhood from Sheck, and when I asked her why she was doing it she just told me that she…you know…" Suddenly, it occurred to Arnold just how awkward this conversation really was: he was telling his technical former girlfriend and technical most recent crush about another girl's secret love confession to him—a girl he had just kissed right in front of her!

"Oh, I see," was all Lila cheerily said back, though she seemed to be thinking about it all very intently. Then she added, "Well, I suppose it was for the best, don't you?" She smiled at Arnold and giggled.

Arnold felt his cheeks flush with heat. "Well…I…I mean…listen, Lila, about what happened in there…" He vaguely pointed in the direction of Helga's room, but then sighed, finally resigning himself to the fact that discussing Helga with Lila was just too awkward to work. "Look, would it be okay if we didn't talk about Helga right now? It's just making me kind of…uncomfortable…"

Lila smiled and shook her head. "Oh, Arnold, I've always been ever so certain that you mean well, but you are just oh too out of touch with your feelings sometimes." She giggled again, which Arnold found distinctly annoying.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He was scowling slightly, which Lila apparently found funny as her giggling only increased.

Seeing that it was annoying him, though, she tried to stifle her laughter. "Oh, Arnold, don't get so upset. I just meant that it's ever so amusing how you'd go and do something as dramatic as kissing Helga, but then be unwilling to even discuss the subject of her. "

Arnold closed his eyes. "Lila, can we please just drop it, okay? If you want to know the truth, this _whole_ _weekend_ has been pretty confusing and I haven't exactly had a lot of time to figure out what it all means!"

"Of course, Arnold. We'll just give Helga and Gerald a few more minutes and then we'll check on them."

Smiling pleasantly, Lila stood up and walked over to a magazine rack under the sink where she grabbed a random issue and sat down on the tile floor, casually flipping through it.

Arnold retained his miffed expression for a few more seconds, then let out a deep sigh and without thinking casually said to break the silence, "Well, at least one thing makes sense to me now."

Lila glanced up from an article she was reading and politely asked (hoping that Arnold had finally come to some kind of conclusion about Helga), "And what's that, Arnold?"

Arnold's cheeks pinkened slightly, but he responded in a casual voice, "Well, now I understand why you never started like-liking me again…"

Lila raised an eyebrow and placed her magazine on the floor, very surprised by what Arnold had just said. "I'm sorry, Arnold, I'm ever so certain I don't know what you mean…"

He continued. "Well, you knew how Helga felt about me, so I guess you didn't want to intrude on her feelings… I always kind of wondered why you stopped wanting to be my girlfriend after you thought I like-liked you for that one week—now it makes sense." Arnold had an amused smile on his face.

Lila instantly stood up and put her hands on her hips, scowling angrily. In as level a voice as she could muster she promptly informed him, "Excuse me, Arnold, but I'm oh too sure that Helga's feelings for you had absolutely nothing to do with my own. In fact, I didn't even know that she loved you until weeks after I broke up with you. And frankly, Arnold, I find it oh too rude that you would just assume that I couldn't just simply not 'like-you like-you'! Hmpf!" She folded her arms in front of her chest and turned her face upward and away from him. "Honestly, Arnold, you're an ever so nice friend but oh too dense when it comes to love!"

Arnold blinked in surprise, shocked that she had been so offended by his conclusion. '_Well, __I__ thought it made sense! I mean, I still don't understand how she could just stop like-liking me after only a few days_—_it took__ me weeks to get over Ruth McDougal! She looks really upset, though… I guess I did kind of jump to conclusions… I should apologize.'_ He sighed to himself. '_Sometimes I just don't understand girls…'_

"Sorry, Lila." Arnold approached her, his left hand outstretched, smiling sincerely.

Lila looked at his hand, then put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him as though she was waiting for him to continue. Arnold cleared his throat and added, "…Um, for not understanding that you 'just simply don't 'like-me like-me'…" Lila continued looking expectant, "and, um…for not accepting your feelings…?"

Finally, Lila smiled and shook Arnold's hand. "Apology accepted, Arnold. Thank you."

Arnold sighed mentally, happy that he had said the right thing.

Lila then sat back down to resume her reading of her magazine. Arnold stood and began to pace near the bathroom door, impatient to get back in the room with Helga and Gerald. Finally, losing his patience, he walked back over to the bathtub and sat on the edge again across from Lila. He decided to try and make conversation to pass the time. "So…what do you think they're talking about in there?"

Lila changed the magazine in her hands for another one in the rack. "Well, I'm oh too sure Gerald's just trying to get some answers…he did seem ever so slightly confused when we started talking about Helga's 'secret' back there."

Arnold blinked, an interesting new idea coming to him. "Do you think Helga would, you know…really tell him anything?"

Lila considered for a moment, skimming through the new magazine. "Oh, Arnold, I'm certain Helga will say whatever she thinks is best." She glanced at him, giving him a reassuring smile.

Arnold involuntarily sighed from a combination of exhaustion, impatience, and secretly a strange lurch in his stomach at Lila's arguably affirmative response to his question.

Lila noticed his strange reaction and put her magazine aside again. "Arnold, are you okay?"

"Huh?" Lila's query roused Arnold from his feelings of discomfort, and it took him a moment to process what she had asked. "Oh…uh…yeah…I'm fine..."

Lila stood up and walked over to sit next to him on the edge of the tub, a concerned expression on her face. "Arnold, if you're worried about Gerald finding out how Helga feels about y—"

Arnold's eyes widened in surprise at her suggestion and his cheeks flushed. "HUH?!" He took a few breaths and tried to calm himself. "I mean—No! I just…I mean…I don't want to make things more difficult for…for Helga."

Lila raised an eyebrow. "Arnold, I'm afraid I don't understa—"

Arnold turned his face away from hers slightly. "I mean…Helga's already been through a lot today, and I…just don't want her to have to go through confessing her secret again on top of everything."

Though Lila believed Arnold's concern for Helga was genuine, she could sense from his hesitation in speaking and the way he wouldn't look her in the eye that something else about the idea of Helga telling Gerald that she loved Arnold was bothering him. "Is that all?"

Arnold blinked and considered for a moment. "Well…"

"Arnold, Gerald's an ever so wonderful friend and I'm certain he wouldn't tell anybody else about Helga's secret if she told him, or that you two kissed…"

She waited for a reaction to this last point and instantly saw Arnold's eyes widen and his face go pale. He immediately turned to Lila with a desperate look. "Lila, promise me that you won't mention that to anyone. Please!"

Lila was a little taken aback by his pleading but managed to reply kindly, "O-Of course, Arnold."

Arnold breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Lila." He rested his rather long head on one of his hands and closed his eyes, deep in thought about something.

Lila swallowed and decided that now would be the perfect opportunity to ask the one question she had been dying to know the answer to ever since she had returned to Helga's room with Gerald.

"Uh, you're quite welcome Arnold…but, um, since I'm keeping this secret do you think it would be ever so rude of me to ask a question about it?"

Arnold looked at her with an eyebrow raised, unsure of where she might be going with this. "Uh, sure, Lila…"

Lila smiled. "Why did you kiss Helga, Arnold?"

Arnold's cheeks became a deep scarlet and he swallowed hard. "Lila! I…I don't…I…" He was waiting for her to realize that the question was making him very uncomfortable and to change the subject, but Lila just kept staring at him with a very expectant look. He rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed again. "I'm not sure…" he finally admitted.

Lila crossed her legs, trying to seem as casual as possible as she said what she had been planning to say next. "It wasn't by any chance because you might 'like' Helga, was it, Arnold?" Lila had chosen her words very carefully, trying to phrase the question in the same way she had done to Helga about Arnold all those months ago.

"What?! No!" He shot up, startled by the direct accusation.

A small half-smile came to Lila's lips, and she continued in a casual tone. "Well, because if that really was why then maybe you're just worried that if she starts telling people how she feels about you, then you'll start having to admit how you feel about her…"

Arnold looked at her with a distinctly annoyed expression. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and in a flat voice he replied, "Lila, I do not like Helga."

Aware that she was beginning to make him angry, but determined to make him see his potential feelings through to the end, Lila swallowed and asked as innocently as possible, "Well…why not?"

Arnold blinked. He opened his mouth as though about to answer the question, but remained silent in his surprise at it.

Lila continued smiling, well aware that she had him now. '_This is oh too perfect—he'll have to admit how he feels about Helga now! Oh, it's just ever so romantic.' _She crossed her legs again, very confident in the thought that nothing could get Arnold out of answering this direct question.

Nothing, that was, except for the bathroom door suddenly opening…

* * *

"Uh…that's all…" Brainy sat down on Arnold's floor, very winded from his staccato explanation of all that had happened between Helga, Arnold, and their fourth grade class that afternoon.

Phoebe Heyerdahl had been listening to all he had to say with much interest (at both the subject matter and the fact she'd finally heard Brainy speak more than a single sentence, even though it had taken him a considerable amount of time to do so.) Normally, she wouldn't have asked him to talk so much but everyone else had seemed too busy to explain things to her. Now that he was done, though, she paused to consider all he had told her. '_Oh dear, I didn't realize it had been that serious! I certainly hope Arnold, Lila, and Gerald can manage to out-maneuver Olga and explain things to Helga.'_

She took another bite of a chocolate-chip cookie and sighed to herself, giving Brainy a grateful smile. "Thank you, Brainy."

Brainy merely smiled back, too winded to say 'you're welcome.'

Phoebe looked around, taking a quick survey of the rest of her classmates: Harold, Sid, and Stinky were sitting in a circle and playing with a paper football, Iggy was checking out Arnold's sound system, Eugene and Sheena were pouring drinks for people out of the pitcher of lemonade Arnold's Grandpa had brought up twenty minutes ago, and Nadine was trying to talk a very satisfied looking Rhonda into letting Curly out from the wall space behind Arnold's couch where she'd finally managed to trap him only a few short minutes ago.

Phoebe sighed to herself again. '_Well, at least everyone's still here. I do hope Arnold and the others return soon, though—I doubt Brainy will have the ability to keep our classmates here much longer…'_

Phoebe glanced over at Brainy and noticed, with surprise, that he had actually fallen asleep as a result of his efforts to explain the situation at hand to her.

Unfortunately, she wasn't the only fourth grader in the room to become aware of this fact. "Awesome, Brainy's asleep! I'm outta here!" A confident Iggy began to make his way toward Arnold's door. Instantly, the other kids in the room turned to Brainy and, realizing that he was indeed asleep, happily began to follow Iggy's lead.

"Come on, Rhonda! I'm running out of air! Plus, I miss the smell of that dazzling hair of yours, baby!"

"Oh, fine, you little troll—besides, we're getting out of here now, anyway!" Rhonda pressed a button on Arnold's remote, causing Curly to tumble out from behind Arnold's couch and face first onto the floor. She made for the exit, Nadine in her wake.

"Aw, yes, finally I get to go home and have dinner!" Harold exclaimed, eating the final half of his last cookie.

Sid shoved several cookies in his pocket to take home for later. "But, Harold, we just ate cookies and sandwiches."

Harold scratched his head and said logically. "Well, I figure an early dinner evens out a late lunch."

Sid just shrugged his shoulders and looked at a somewhat confused Stinky, who merely replied, "Makes sense to me, I guess." The three boys continued heading for the door.

"Hey, wait for us, guys!" Eugene exclaimed. He and Sheena were trying to get some of the dirty dishes and glasses together. Just as Eugene was about to set-down a very large stack of plates, however, he slipped on a glass lying on its side on the floor and dropped the lot of them, breaking about half. "I'm okay…" Sheena helped him up and they finally made to exit Arnold's room as well.

Without thinking (and very worried about how it might make her best friend feel if she actually managed to escape Olga and make it to Arnold's house only to discover all of their classmates gone), Phoebe stood up and cried out desperately, "Wait! You guys, Arnold and Helga aren't back yet—" She ran towards Arnold's door, reaching it just before Iggy could open it and be the first to exit.

Iggy stopped and took off his glasses for a moment to rub his eyes as he tried to be patient. "Look, Phoebe, it's been fun but Brainy's asleep now," he motioned toward the slumbering figure of Brainy on the floor, "and honestly we all have much better and 'cooler' things to do with the rest of our weekend than dealing with Arnold's obsession with Helga Pataki."

There were murmurs of assent from behind him. Phoebe couldn't help but look a bit confused by this last remark. "Obsession? I don't—"

Iggy sighed. "I'm just saying, I don't know what's going on with him and that girl but I don't want anything to do with it. As far as I'm concerned, Helga G. Pataki is bad news…"

"Yes, yes, we went over this before with Arnold and Lila!" Rhonda cut in. "Now, please move, Phoebe—we have places to be!" Rhonda reached past Iggy and Phoebe for the door handle.

"But, you guys…" Phoebe didn't know what to say—she'd never been good at confrontations (Helga had always taken care of them for her), but the idea that everybody really thought so little of her best friend that they would take more time out of their day to make her feel unwanted by participating in Gerald's scheme than to apologize to her for hurting her feelings was very upsetting.

Stinky was the next person to speak up. In an understanding voice he said, "Phoebe, I know you're tryin' to help, but I really doubt you could give us one good reason to stay any longer…"

Everybody else murmured in agreement. Phoebe said the first thought that came to her mind. "But, you guys, she's our friend!"

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Oh, not this again—Phoebe did you and Arnold plan out some kind of tandem argument or something? Because unless you can give us a more realistic reason than that…"

Phoebe sighed and lowered her eyes, unable to muster enough courage to challenge all of her classmates at once. Seeing that she wasn't going to respond, Rhonda smiled victoriously and the mass of fourth graders finally opened the door and began to exit (though a bit more hesitantly than before, considering how much they each noticed their leaving was upsetting Phoebe).

As they were about to start descending Arnold's ladder, though, Phoebe, unable to think of anything else that might keep her friends in the room, suddenly called out to Rhonda, "Finger sandwiches!"

Rhonda stopped in mid-step down the ladder and looked at Phoebe with an expression of annoyance. "Excuse me?"

Phoebe took a deep breath, trying to keep her up confidence. She quietly explained. "Finger sandwiches. Remember at your costume party, Rhonda? You couldn't decide whether to have square finger sandwiches or triangular ones?"

Rhonda sighed, losing patience. "What's your point, Phoebe?"

Phoebe swallowed, feeling a little surer of herself now that she actually had Rhonda's attention. "Helga helped you decide—she told you to go with both so that you wouldn't have to stifle your creativity."

Before Rhonda could say anything, Phoebe turned to Harold. "And Harold, do you remember when you and Helga were left behind during the field trip to the chocolate factory? Remember how you said that after all of the perils you two faced trying to get home, you actually ended up going to a wrestling match together and having a lot of fun?"

Harold raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, yeah, but—"

But Phoebe was already on to the next person, though. "And Stinky, do you remember at the beginning of the year when you spent so much time with Helga that you actually developed a crush on her!?"

A few eyebrows were raised, and in a confused voice Stinky replied, "Now, wait a minute, I thought Helga promised she wouldn't tell anybody about that…"

"Uh, Phoebe—what's your point exactly?" Sid piped up curiously.

Phoebe couldn't help but smile at the effect her plan seemed to be having (at least they were listening, after all). Excitedly, she replied, "Don't you understand—Helga _can't_ possibly be all bad because somehow or other she's helped or cared about each of you! She's just misunderstood, and if Arnold and Gerald and Lila and Brainy," she motioned toward Brainy, "and I can all give her the benefit of a doubt, well then…" she looked at all of their faces and smiled hopefully at them, "Then…maybe each of you could as well?"

She waited, a heavy sense of expectation in the air. For a few seconds the fourth graders standing in front of Phoebe Heyerdahl were all silent, some looking to each other for answers, others in deep thought.

Rhonda was the first one to speak up. "Nadine," she said in a very level voice, "can you be a dear and go get me my cell phone? I left it on the end table over there."

Phoebe's face fell as she watched a reluctant Nadine step out of the crowd and retrieve Rhonda's cell phone for her. '_It didn't work…what will I tell Helga?'_

Rhonda noticed Phoebe's devastated expression and addressed her with a sigh as she walked back into Arnold's room. "Oh, Phoebe, now honestly you can't expect me to have 'no' contact with the outside world until Arnold and Helga get back—I at least have to call my parents and let them know I'm staying here."

At first, Phoebe simply wasn't been able to process the meaning of Rhonda's response. Then, suddenly, here eyes lit up. "You mean you're staying?!"

"Well, of course—no one is ever going to be able to say that Rhonda Wellington Lloyd doesn't repay those who help her." And with that Rhonda sat on the couch and proceeded to call her parents.

Phoebe looked to the rest of her classmates. Harold, Sid, and Stinky were staring at each other unsurely. Suddenly, Harold said, "Well…the sandwiches and cookies were pretty good… Maybe Arnold's Grandpa has some even better ones for dinner!"

Sid considered for a moment. "Yeah, and I mean, it would be pretty rude to just eat and run without thanking Arnold, I guess…"

Stinky sighed. "And I guess I did sorta like Helga once…"

Harold and Sid snickered to each other and sat down in a nearby corner of the room. Stinky scowled and went to sit down with them. "Hey, it's not funny!"

Iggy sighed, still part way down the ladder. "Well, I guess it would be uncool to just leave Arnold's room without even saying goodbye. And I guess it wouldn't be the geekiest thing in the world to apologize to Helga…"

Eugene looked at Iggy and then at Sheena. "And I did sort of break all those dishes…some one could get hurt if I just leave them all over the floor there." He and Sheena walked back to the pile of shattered plates and began to throw their remains in Arnold's waste bin.

"Well, I for one am outta here!!! See ya, suckers!" Curly made a leap toward the exit. Desperate, Phoebe looked to Rhonda whose eyes widened as she realized what Phoebe had in mind for her to do. Seeing the pleading look in the young Asian girl's eyes, though, she sighed and called out from Arnold's couch in a very flat voice, "Oh, Curly. Where's my Curly?"

Instantly, Curly stopped in his tracks and turned to Rhonda, a devious smile on his face. "Sugar Daddy knew you'd come around, Baby Cakes!" He made a run for her, arms outstretched.

With a bored sigh, Rhonda stood up from the couch and pressed the button to flip it back into the wall just as Curly hit it, effectively trapping him behind it again.

"Hey, where's my sugar?! You promised!" Curly pounded the couch from inside of the wall.

Rhonda tossed the remote onto one of Arnold's end tables and turned to Phoebe with a dull look. "Is that all, Ms. Heyerdahl?"

"Thank you, Rhonda." Phoebe smiled at the black-haired girl's successful attempt at keeping Curly from leaving.

Rhonda sighed and sat on the floor, absentmindedly playing with her cell phone. "Oh, Phoebe…after all of this Helga better turn out to secretly be a pretty _terrific_ person…"

Phoebe's smile strengthened. "Well_, I_ think she is Rhonda…"

Seeing that Rhonda was too distracted with her phone to be listening much anymore, Phoebe walked over to where Brainy was still sleeping and finished her thought privately. '_I just hope Arnold's found a way to let her show it_…'

A little while later, the door opened…

* * *

_Meanwhile, back in Helga's room…_

Helga's jaw dropped. "MOM, DAD!"

Gerald's eyes widened and he couldn't help but let out a small scream. "AHH!"

Miriam Pataki, still standing in the doorway with her husband, smiled airily. "Hi, honey—oh and hello…uh…Jerry, right?"

Big Bob Pataki looked from his youngest daughter to the young man sitting on the bed with her and, recalling Olga's brief explanation of why exactly Helga was in trouble today, suddenly yelled, "Helga! What in the Blazes is going on here?!"

Gerald turned to a very shocked and frightened looking (and now speechless) Helga and then back to her incredibly angry father. "Uh oh…"

* * *

_Meanwhile, back in the bathroom…_

"Knock, knock Helg—AH!"

"AH!" Lila stood straight up, completely terrified. Olga stood in the doorway facing her and Arnold, her hands over her mouth covering her small scream.

"OLGA!" Arnold almost fell backwards into the bathtub, though he managed to keep his balance by grabbing onto one of Lila's now rigid and cold hands.

Olga's eyes widened. "Arnold…? Lil' Sis…?" She turned to Lila who averted her eyes, unwilling to see the disappointment that would inevitably come to her Big Sis' face when she realized what exactly was going on. Still in shock, Olga began, "But…how…"

Suddenly, all three of them turned their attention across the hall where a similar commotion was going on.

Arnold glanced at a very shaky Lila and then back to Olga and swallowed hard. "Uh oh…"

* * *

**A/N:**

Alright, that's it for Chapter 8! Yes, everything has hit the fan, and it's only going to explode in everybody's face even more in the next chapter, lol. Seriously though, I hope you guys like what's happened, and I hope you'll stay tuned for what's coming next ;) Trust me, I've got things much more worked out for what comes next and the overall ending (I really think you guys are going to like it too crosses fingers ). Anyway, that's all for now, and again if anybody has any suggestions for things they'd like to see happen before this story is over, please let me know and I'll see if I can work it in to the stuff I've already planned out! Thanks so much guys, and I can't wait to read the reviews and see what you all think :D

* (A/N: Credit to Hellerick Ferlibay for suggesting the asterisked joke as something he wanted to see in the original discussion Helga's secret in the previous chapter (seriously, I wish I'd thought of it before posting that last chapter, lol)).


	9. A Lot of Long Speeches

_Reposted with grammar edits on 1/5/2010._

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**A/N:**

Hello again, everyone! Okay, so here's the deal—there's been some things nagging at me about this chapter ever since I put it up, and then I was going through my notes on the previous chapters and through the reviews and well, I just decided that I needed to change some things in order for the end of the fic to work without being ridiculously long and complicated (even for me, lol). The beginning and the end of this chapter are exactly the same as they were before, but I added and changed some stuff in the middle, and I think it really does make it better. So without further ado, here's Chapter 9 (redux) of Tutoring Arnold :)

Oh and thanks to everyone who complimented this chapter (I hope you like the changes too!), and to everyone who had suggestions to make it better (the same goes for you guys about the changes ;) ), especially **Hellerick** **Ferlibay** who pointed out one of biggest things that I forgot I wanted to address in this chapter (namely, Big Bob hearing that Helga was going out with Arnold, but finding her alone with Gerald). Also Hellerick, thanks for the suggestion to read the fic Rainy December—I absolutely loved it!

Happy Reading!

**Old A/N:**

Yes, FINALLY, Here it is—after countless hours of writing and editing and severe writer's block I think I've finally finished chapter 9 :) Again, I know I say this every time but I'm really sorry its getting up so late—I just really wanna give you guys quality, and being the crazy, anal perfectionist that I am, doing just that tends to take me a while (and the fact that I keep writing 20 something page chapters doesn't help either, lol). Anyway, I hope you all had great Holidays, and that you all have an awesome New Year! And of course, I also hope that you enjoy this latest installment of "Tutoring Arnold" (the next one, I'm sad to say, will be the last, so stay tuned!) Happy Reading, and please for my sanity (lol) R & R! ;)

I also wanted to say thanks to everyone who's been reviewing this story—you guys are great! We actually just broke 100 reviews, which I'm totally excited about :) And a special thanks to **akigirl **for recommending the HA! fic "Home Cooking" to me—I read it in one shot and it was the most enjoyable evening I've had in a while ;) Everyone should definitely check it out! And if any of you guys would like to share what your fav fic is with me I'd love to hear about it! My personal favorite is "Arnold's Couch Confessions" by DarthRoden aka Carl (who's also writing the hilarious fic "Closet Confusion").

Alright, enough banter: get yourselves a final glass of Holiday egg nog, heat up some ham or latkas or fish or whatever traditional food you still have left over, even light a Yule log if you feel like it! Whatever it takes to make you comfortable, because at over 10,000 words this chapter could take a while ;)

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 9: **

**A Lot of Long Speeches**

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* * *

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"Nice going, Geraldo!"

"_What_?!" exclaimed Gerald, turning to Helga with his eyes wide in surprise. "How is this _my_ fault?"

Helga crossed her arms in front of her chest and scoffed, well aware that she couldn't defend her accusation but still feeling the need to blame 'somebody' for the unbelievable mess she was currently in. "Oh, just shut up, hair boy! I am in _no_ mood!"

Gerald threw himself in an armchair and rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're in a 'mood,' alright—"

Helga growled at him and glared, but just as she was about to spout another threat at him…

"Guys, enough!" Both Helga and Gerald turned to Arnold, surprised by his sudden and firm outburst.

Helga, Gerald, and Arnold were currently in the trophy room of the Pataki household, awaiting the return of Helga's parents and Olga Pataki who were still talking with each other upstairs.

Helga was momentarily silenced by Arnold's exclamation, but after a second regained her dominating nature and replied in a huff, "Hey, _he_ started it!"

Arnold could see that Gerald was about to attempt a comeback (his eyes were narrowed and he already had his mouth open), but he cut him off by addressing Helga. "Helga, weren't you two supposed to be working things out up there? So that you could STOP fighting?" He put his hands on his hips.

Helga blinked, surprised by the slight aggression in his voice, but didn't falter. "Yeah, well…we were 'getting' to that! But, seriously, Football Head, your best friend's about the most stubborn, bossiest person I've ever met—how do you deal with him?!" She jerked a thumb in Gerald's direction.

This time Arnold wasn't quick enough to silence Gerald. He sprung up from the armchair he had been sitting in. "Excuse ME?! _You're_ the one who tried to _kill_ me in there!"

At this accusation Arnold folded his arms in front of his chest and raised an eyebrow at Helga in a look demanding an explanation. Defensively, Helga raised her hands in front of herself and responded, "Hey, hey, it was just a joke! Besides," she turned back to Gerald, scowling again, "_you're_ the one who threatened me first by saying you'd go to Olga!"

Gerald sighed, realizing that this finger pointing wasn't getting them anywhere. "Whatever, Helga…" He threw himself back in the chair and turned himself so that his legs were hanging over one side. "Well, at least we got one thing done up there; I know what the secret is now, so I can finally follow what you guys are all talking about."

Arnold went wide-eyed. He quickly turned to Helga, his face paling slightly. "You mean you—"

She cut him off in a slightly panicky voice before he could say anything else. "Uh…more or less…" Helga cleared her throat and tugged at her collar, feeling her cheeks flush. Finally, though, she swallowed hard and tried to resume her dominating attitude. "Let's just say I told him enough so that _you_ don't have to keep moping around!"

In unison, both boys turned to Helga Pataki and said in very confused voices, "Huh?"

Helga looked from one to the other. Gerald eyed her suspiciously. "Helga, what do you mean you told me 'enough'?" Arnold merely had an eyebrow raised, equally unsure of what Helga could possibly mean.

The young ten-year-old girl swallowed hard and carefully considered her response. She decided to address Arnold. "Well…Arnold," she turned her gaze back to the questioning eyes of the Football Headed fourth grader, "Uh…Gerald explained to me how you were acting kind of…'confused'…about the 'secret', and that it seemed like you could use someone to talk to about it…like him, for example," she jerked her thumb in Gerald's direction, "So, I told him—"

Arnold interrupted her with an edge of surprise and panic in his voice, his face flushing now as well. "So, you mean he actually knows that you—"

Helga quickly headed him off at the pass. "HE KNOWS THAT…um, that I'm Deep Voice…heh, heh?" She ended the sentence with a sheepish chuckle.

She waited for a response, her eyes cast downward and cringing, too afraid to see just how badly the confused expression on Arnold's face would betray to Gerald that this was indeed not exactly the 'secret' that Arnold, Lila, and Helga had been referring to back in Helga's room.

However, to her surprise she was _not_ met with some kind of demand from Gerald to know what more she was hiding. Instead, Helga noticed Arnold's shadow approaching her, and looked up to see a very surprised expression on the football-headed fourth grader's face. She raised an eyebrow and was about to ask him what he was doing when suddenly he spoke. "Is that really what you think this is all about, Helga?"

Helga looked at him, her eyes wide, and swallowed hard. Arnold was very close to her, his face right near hers as he awaited a response to the question. She began to breathe more deeply, nervous about his proximity (and at this point entirely forgetting about Gerald). "I…I…" For a single moment, Helga found herself frozen in place—almost hypnotized by her love's closeness. Even at the risk of actually telling him the truth, even at the risk of losing her tough reputation, even at the risk of having her parents and sister come back downstairs any second to find them together like this…she just couldn't break herself from Arnold…

Suddenly, though, the sound of approaching dainty footsteps brought Helga out of her fantasies of summer weddings, white picket fences, and 2.5 children, and she felt the power of speech return to her. "I…I mean…I should…uh…" she could feel herself blushing and she wrung her sweating palms in anxiety, "…go get…"

"LILA."

Helga instantly turned to Gerald with a raised eyebrow, curious about why he had just finished her sentence for her. Before she could say anything, though, Lila (who actually _had_ just entered the room) spoke up instead. "Oh, hello, Gerald. Is something the matter?"

Arnold, Gerald, and Helga were all facing Lila; they had been so wrapped up in their conversation that they had almost forgotten that she had been in the kitchen on the phone with her father explaining to him why she still had not come home from her trip to Arnold's over an hour ago.

However, rather than answering her question, Gerald sprang up out of his chair and pointed his finger directly at the red-haired girl. "That's it—Lila!"

Lila's eyes widened and she blinked in surprise. "Pardon?"

Again Gerald didn't answer but, instead, instantly turned his attention back to Helga. The appearance of Lila coupled with Helga's recent suspicious explanation to Arnold had caused him to remember something very important; the nagging question he had felt back in Helga's room before the rest of the Pataki household had shown up to interrupt their conversation—the unidentifiable inconsistency with her secret that he just hadn't been able to put into words at the time. He scrutinized Helga for a few moments, working out the details in his head.

"Hey, take a picture Geraldo, it'll last longer!" Helga spat, approaching him with a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips.

Unfazed by her attitude, Gerald suddenly announced his realization. "Helga, you told Lila your secret during the school play!"

Helga rolled her eyes and scoffed, turning to Arnold. "Sheesh, Football Head—you needed help sneaking into a house and you chose someone who takes twenty minutes to process a piece of information?" She smirked at Gerald. "You're a regular genius, hair boy, you know that?" Helga knew she was laying on the sarcasm a little thick but, between waiting for her parents and sister to finally descend the stairs and sensing the accusatory tone of Gerald's voice, her nerves were almost shot and she needed _something_ to distract her.

Gerald approached her, an annoyed scowl on his face. "Pataki, I've had enough lip from you! Now, listen—if you told Lila your secret during the school play that means it existed at least four months ago—"

Angry at his aggression, Helga scowled darkly and cut him off. "Look Geraldo, I get that this has been a pretty stressful day, but no one talks to me like that! Now make your point or shut u—"

He cut her off in a triumphant and determined voice. "You weren't Deep Voice until a few weeks ago, so there's no way that's your secret!"

Helga had been cooking up some potential comebacks for whatever Gerald might say next, but she hadn't expected this. Her face instantly paled and she felt her heart drop in her chest. She noticed Gerald's eyebrow raise in question to her obviously panicked reaction.

Lila interrupted the interrogation. "Helga, I'm confused? Who's Deep Voice? I thought the only secret you had was the one about how you feel about Ar—"

"LILA!" Helga came out of her shock and instantly raced over to the confused red head, cutting her off. "Can I see you in my office for a minute?" She placed one of her arms over Lila's shoulders and began to lead her toward the kitchen.

In an unsure but compliant voice Lila answered, "Um…of course, Helga, but I'd be ever so grateful if you'd tell me what—"

"Lila, Itchen-Kay, Ow-Nay…" (A/N: Pig Latin for 'Kitchen Now') coaxed Helga with a forced smile. And with that she shoved Lila into the hallway (and out of earshot of Gerald.)

Gerald cast a questioning look at his best friend, who merely closed his eyes and sighed. "Gerald…please just don't ask…"

* * *

"Whew, that was close!" Helga Pataki, now alone in the kitchen with a still confused Lila, plopped herself into a table chair and addressed her friend. "Lila, look, I don't have a lot of time to go into details so here's the short version." Helga stood up and put her hands on her hips. "First, Gerald doesn't have a clue what my real secret is so don't bring it up to him—EVER! Second, I told him that my secret was that I helped him and Arnold save the neighborhood last month disguised as a mysterious figure named Deep Voice, and if you know what's good for you you'll stick with that story if he asks you anything about it! And third—and this one is VERY important so move those country braids away from your ears and listen up!" She got up close to Lila and put a finger in her face, narrowing her eyes. "If Olga ever asks you anything and I mean ANYTHING about me and Arnold, you don't say a word…got it?"

Lila swallowed hard and quickly nodded her head.

At this response Helga smiled and relaxed a little, sitting comfortably back down in her seat. "Good—that's what I thought."

Lila smiled, still a bit nervous. "Don't worry, Helga—I'm ever so certain I'll have no trouble continuing to keep your secret about Arnold."

The scowl returned to Helga's face as did the sarcasm to her voice for a moment. "Good, 'cause remember, if you ever tell anyone…" Helga made a gesture like wringing a neck with bare her hands, similar to the one she had made in threat to Lila several months ago when she had first told her about her love for Arnold.

Lila couldn't help but gulp and put her hand to her neck for a moment. However, she still tried to maintain her cheery attitude and thus asked pleasantly in an attempt to change the subject, "So, is there anything else you'd like to talk about, Helga?"

She was expecting Helga to answer with a sarcastic 'no' and head back to the trophy room with her. However, instead, there was a slight pause and she noticed Helga's face soften.

Helga swallowed hard and asked in a much more non-threatening voice, "Yeah, uh…Lila, get me a Yahoo from the fridge and sit down for a sec, will ya?"

Lila blinked, surprised by the request. "Of course, Helga."

The red head quickly retrieved beverages for both of them and then resumed her seat kitchen table next to Helga, smiling pleasantly.

Helga took a sip of the soda and was silent for a moment as though it was difficult for her to find the words to express what she had to say. She started slowly. "So…did you tell you Dad about what happened?"

Lila smiled. "Oh yes, Helga—we tell each other everything .I just explained to him that I've been trying to help a friend with something and that I'd be home as soon as possible."

"Oh…good…" Helga was silent for a moment, but then quickly continued in a very forced but undeniably sincere voice (all the while not making eye contact with Lila). "Lila…look, I know we've had some problems in the past, but…well, you helped Arnold a lot today with getting here and getting past Olga, and even though I'm maybe not always the 'nicest' person to you you've kept how I feel about Arnold secret for months now… And, well, I just wanted to say…to say…TH-THANK you…" Helga forced out the last word and then took a very long swig of her soda, only glancing in Lila's direction.

Lila smiled warmly and placed a hand on one of Helga's shoulders. "Oh, Helga, you're ever so welcome! And it was really no trouble—you're our friend, and helping Arnold help you today was the least I could do. And as for your secret…well, I'm just glad things worked out and that Arnold finally knows how you feel…" Very wrapped up in the moment, Lila couldn't help but wink as she finished this last sentence.

Helga was finally looking Lila in the face at this point and raised an eyebrow in confusion at this last gesture. "Uh, thanks…so…" Helga tried to regain her bully composure, though her 'fury' no longer seemed genuine. She scowled and shoved a finger at Lila again. "So, uh…just remember what I told you about Gerald and Olga and everything, and we won't have any problems!"

Rather than look 'intimidated' by this obviously fake display of anger, though, Lila merely smiled warmly at Helga and replied, "I promise." She couldn't help but notice the almost imperceptible look of thanks in Helga's 'smirk.'

* * *

"LITTLE LADY, YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!!!" boomed Big Bob Pataki as he prepared to descend the stairs of his house with his wife and eldest daughter in tow.

Arnold and Gerald jumped in surprise at the sound, their eyes widening with fear and nervousness.

Arnold glanced in the direction of the kitchen from which Helga and Lila had yet to emerge. He turned to his best friend. "I'd better go get Helga before her Dad gets here…"

He was about to turn to go when Gerald suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, no way you're leaving me _alone_ with the Pataki's! I already had to deal with Helga one on one—I am _not_ taking on both of her parents AND her sister by myself, too!"

Arnold rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed by his best friend and yet still slightly terrified about the confrontation that would soon be taking place. "Fine—you go get Helga and Lila, and I'LL stay here and look out for Mr. And Mrs. Pataki and Olga."

Gerald was already half way to the kitchen, a smile on his face. "Be right back—and remember, if he hits you…!" Gerald winked.

Arnold sighed with annoyance. "Gerald, just go!"

And with that Gerald entered the hall and prepared to walk through the kitchen door, eager to be out of the trophy room and, for the moment, out of the path of Big Bob Pataki.

* * *

Back in the kitchen, Helga was throwing out the empty soda cans and getting ready to head back to Arnold and Gerald.

Suddenly, though, feeling brave after the (more or less) tender moment of friendship they had just shared, Lila asked nonchalantly, "Helga…if it wouldn't be ever so rude, may I ask…why didn't you just tell Gerald how you feel about Arnold?"

Helga, who had almost reached the kitchen door, sighed and turned to face Lila instead. "Lila…look, it's complicated. I've…I've got a reputation to maintain and besides…it's none of anyone's business how I feel about _anybody_!" Helga's defensive, bully attitude began to return as she finished this last sentence.

"Oh, Helga," Lila smiled, hoping to get on Helga's good side again, "no one's going to treat you any differently just because you care about somebody…I mean, look at me, for example—a few months ago I was quite smitten with Arnold myself for a few days and the whole school knew, and did they do anything bad to me? Absolutely not."

Helga rolled her eyes and clenched her fists at the memory of Lila's brief 'crush' on her beloved. "Lila, they didn't _do_ anything to you because your reputation is being a sensitive, wishy-washy, overly kind, sunshiny, princess—_my_ reputation, on the other hand, involves ruling the fourth grade with an iron fist. It wouldn't exactly go over well if I suddenly added 'lovesick romantic' to that description, if you know what I mean." Helga crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave Lila a sarcastic look.

Lila sighed and shrugged her shoulders, turning to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. "Well, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to _change_ your reputation Helga—especially if your secret feelings are a big part of who you really are. And Gerald would have been a perfect person to try out your new image on—I'm ever so certain he would have respected your secret. He _is_ Arnold's best friend after all and, to be just perfectly honest, Helga, I'm not sure I've ever met a better judge of character than Arnold…" She paused, then added, "After all, he _did_ stick up for you when no one else would back in his room just before we left…" She grinned, anticipating Helga's response to this revelation.

Helga couldn't help blushing. "He…what?" she asked cautiously.

"Well, everybody was pretty much against you, but Arnold told them that you weren't just a bully. He said you were an ever so interesting and worthwhile person…and a very good writer as well…"

Helga blushed very darkly. Come to think of it, hadn't Gerald mentioned something about Arnold complimenting her back her in her room? Helga shook off these thoughts and tried to regain some toughness in her voice as she began her reply (she would consider what all of this might mean later). "Yeah…well…so Football Head stood up for me—big deal! He stands up for everyone!"

Facing Helga (and the kitchen door), Lila began to speak (her eyes strangely wider than usual). "Oh, hel—"

Without bothering to take any notice of Lila's unusual change of expression, Helga continued. "Oh, don't 'Oh, Helga' me, Lila—I don't care how good a 'judge of character' Arnold is or what he said about me—there's still no stinkin' way I'm ever casually pulling Gerald off to the side and saying, 'Hey how's it going? You doing okay? Everything good at home? Oh, by the way, I'm secretly _in love_ with your best friend!' "

Helga ended her speech with a sarcastic smile, which her face quickly lost (along with much of its color) as she heard a loud thump coming from the vicinity of the kitchen door. She turned around with a small scream to see Gerald Johanssen passed out on the floor right behind her. She smacked her hand against her forehead, closing her eyes. "Crimeny, I have a BIG MOUTH!!!"

* * *

Arnold was waiting nervously in the trophy room, praying Helga would return before her parents and sister did. Suddenly, to his great relief (and then utter confusion) Helga and Lila did enter…pulling a passed out Gerald in their wake!

Arnold approached them and attempted to help the two girls prop Gerald up in the armchair. "What happened?!" Without thinking, he addressed this question to Helga.

Helga, taking his phrasing of the question to her as an accusation, scowled and replied sarcastically, "Well, duh, Football Head—I finally knocked his block off! I just figured it was all for the best. Besides, he's much easier to deal with this way, don't you thi—Oh, don't look at me like that, Arnoldo—of _course_ I didn't _hit_ him! He just walked into the kitchen and kind of passed out. Sheesh, get a sense of humor!"

During her reply, Arnold's face had been falling steadily until finally Helga just hadn't been able to stand it anymore and had told him the truth about Gerald's condition. Arnold blinked a few times, relieved that what had happened to his friend had indeed been an accident.

The three fourth graders finally had Gerald propped up in the chair, and Arnold was the first to try and wake his best friend up with only moments before the adults would arrive. "Gerald! GERALD!" Arnold grabbed the collar of his shirt in his hands. "Wake up!"

Lila approached and made an attempt. "Oh, Gerald, please wake up! I'm ever so certain there was really no need to pass out after hearing all of that!"

"Yeah, Gerald, come o—" suddenly, Arnold turned to Lila with an eyebrow raised in confusion. "Wait, after hearing all of _what_?"

Helga answered for her. "Nothing…nothing, don't worry about it, Football Head. He probably won't even remember after a fall like that. Now, one of you hand me that vase over there and stand back! I've been waiting all day to do something like this…" Lila reluctantly retrieved the full vase from a nearby end table and handed it to Helga, who promptly dumped the water and flowers inside right onto Gerald's face.

Instantly, the fourth grader coughed a few times then opened his eyes wide. He looked around in confusion for a moment.

Helga smiled. "See, what did I tell you? No harm done."

Suddenly, though, his gaze fell on Helga, and in a shrill voice he announced, "YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH ARNOLD!"

Without hesitation, Helga reacted to the outburst she had feared would be coming. She lunged for Gerald, grabbed him by the shirt collar with both of her hands and whispered acidly into his wet face, "Don't say another word, you IDIOT!!!"

There was a split second of silence, and then suddenly Bob, Miriam, and Olga Pataki finally entered the trophy room, Bob fuming. "LITTLE LADY, YOU'D BETTER SIT YOUR KEISTER DOWN AND START EXPLAINING YOURSELF, PRONTO!!!"

Helga pushed herself away from Gerald, still glaring icily at him, then turned to her father and replied sarcastically, "Right away, BOB!"

"But then why do you treat him like…OH!" While Helga was preparing for the interrogation of a lifetime, Gerald was slowly sorting things out in his head.

Helga sat on the stool in the center of the room, her arms crossed in front of her chest, and made sure to shoot a particularly vicious glare at Gerald to tell him to shut up. She then turned her attention back to Bob.

Bob set himself right in front of her, not noticing Gerald. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Don't take that attitude with _me_ little lady. Now, what's this about you running away from your sister to spend time with some, some…BOY?" He pointed vaguely in the direction of the other three fourth graders (one of which was a blushing Arnold). Bob continued. "And then sneaking all these people into your room?!"

Helga turned to her big sister and shot at her sarcastically, "Thanks, Olga, I'm glad you explained to him _exactly_ how everything _really_ happened!"

"Oh, baby sister…" Olga began emotionally.

"So, what you told him on the building…but why would you help hi—OH!" Gerald was beginning to see some patterns. Helga clenched her fist. '_Shut up, Geraldo…shut up before I shut you up…'_

"Now, Helga," Miriam interjected with an airy voice, taking no more notice of Gerald than her husband had, "listen to your father—he's only looking out for what's best for you… Besides you shouldn't have left your sister like that…"

Her father scowled. "That's right, Olga—running off into the streets like that! And you're only how old—seven, eight?"

"It's 'Helga,' DAD, and I'm ten. And, besides, I'm always walking around by myself—why does it suddenly matter now?!"

Finally, Olga spoke up, a stern but sincerely concerned expression on her face. "It matters very much, baby sister, because you deliberately disobeyed me! And what's worse, you had your friends," she gestured to the three other fourth graders, "lie to me and Mummy and Daddy!"

Bob spoke up again. "That's right—why can't you be more like Olga? She never did anything like this when she was your age—why weren't you taking notes about her behavior back then anyway?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "Gee, I don't know, Bob—maybe because I wasn't BORN yet?!"

"Oh, Helga…" Miriam interjected with a frown at her daughter's sarcastic response.

" 'Oh' what?!" She turned to her mother, gesturing to her father with her hands. "How _else_ was I supposed to answer that question?!"

"But I still don't get how it is you're tutoring Arnold in…I mean what you could possibly be writing ab—OH!!! Oh…no, that is _good_…" Gerald was trying to stifle a giggle as it finally occurred to him just what…or rather 'who'… Helga G. Pataki was probably spending all of her time writing poetry about. Helga whipped her head around and practically growled in his direction. Luckily, her parents and sister had yet to pay any real attention to the side exchanges currently going on between the two fourth graders.

Olga stepped forward and put her hands on her little sister's shoulders, and said in a very sincere voice, "Helga, we just want to know why you did all of this—that's all, Baby Sister, honestly." She smiled.

With a growl of frustration, Helga pushed off her sister's hands. "Grrr…THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO EXPLAIN TO YOU ALL DAY, OLGA! But you just won't LISTEN!"

Helga stood up, commanding all of their attentions. "I tried to explain to you why I needed to get to Arnold's house, but instead you just came up with your _own_ crazy reason and completely shut me down." Helga turned to her parents. "And then you two come in here and start accusing me of a bunch of things without even asking or caring why I did them, or even if they're true! Crimeny, I've just been trying to get a decent grade in English!" Helga sat back on the stool, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and announced in a level but obviously very angry tone. "Now, for the last time—" she pointed to Arnold, then to Gerald and Lila in succession, "I am NOT dating ARNOLD. I was just tutoring him at his house, and Gerald and Lila just HAPPENED to stop by. Then they all came here to see how I was doing after by big sister decided to HUMILIATE me in front of our entire class. Got it?" She glared at the three adults standing around her. "Now, if you're all done replicating the Spanish Inquisition, I'll just be going up to my room." And with that, Helga promptly stood up and began to head toward the doorway.

Suddenly, Big Bob broke the silence, addressing his youngest daughter. "Little lady, you get back in here right now!"

Helga stopped and turned around, her face still full of fury but an eyebrow raised in curiosity at what could be coming next. Reluctantly, she took a single step back into the room but refused to give up any more ground than that.

"Now, listen," suddenly, Bob's voice softened and, nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, "No daughter of mine is dating anybody unless I say its okay!" He tried to hide it, but his concern was obvious. "How do we know that…that…_Alfred_ is good enough for our Olga? Huh?!" He gestured to his wife.

There was a moment of silence, during which the other six people in the room tried to absorb this new side of Bob's personality. Miriam spoke up. "Bob," she placed her hand on one of her husband's shoulders, "I'm sure Arnold's a wonderful boy…"

"FOR THE FIFTIETH TIME, I AM **NOT** DATING ARNOLD!!!" screamed Helga, finally fed up with the accusation.

Ignoring her, Bob continued, this time approaching Arnold. "Now, you listen to me boy, just who do you think you are sneaking into MY daughter's room, and bringing her ALONE into yours—"

"ENOUGH!!!"

At this point, Big Bob had a finger right in a very terrified looking (and totally beet red) Arnold's face. Helga however (unwilling to have anyone threaten her beloved) jumped right between them before her father could go any further.

"OLGA, YOU—"

"HELGA, DAD! IT'S HELGA, AND THIS IS ARNOLD, and, and…" she swallowed hard, finally beginning to lose some of her nerve but determined to make her point nonetheless, "And even though there's ABSOLUTELY NOTHING going on between us," her cheeks pinkened, "and even though I'm JUST his tutor…you still can't talk to him like that. He's a smart, and funny, and a really good person, and anybody would be lucky to have him as a friend or…or anything else!"

For a few moments, father and daughter just stared at each other defiantly, not saying a word.

Suddenly, a most unexpected person broke the silence. "Mr. Pataki, let me tell you with all honesty that nothing is going on between my man Arnold and you're daughter, Helga."

Bob's attention (as well has Helga's) turned to Gerald Johanssen who stood up and approached both of them. The fourth grader put on his most convincing smile, and prepared to pour on all of his natural charm and charisma in an attempt to smooth things over with Mr. Pataki. Both Helga and Arnold raised eyebrows in confusion, and spoke at the same time. "Huh?"

Bob moved away from his daughter and toward Gerald. "And who in the heck are _you_?"

Gerald spoke in a confidant voice. "I'm Gerald. Nice to meet you. Nice place you've got here, by the way…Beeper King, right?"

Big Bob blinked in confusion, torn between anger and flattery. "Uh…yeah…So, what were you saying…?"

Gerald approached Helga and Arnold. "Well, Mr. Pataki, I can tell you without a doubt that Helga has definitely just been _tutoring_ Arnold here; in poetry actually—"

Bob turned to Helga. " 'Poetry?' Since when the heck do you write poetry?"

Helga closed here eyes and dragged a hand down in her face in utter exasperation. '_Great, we've made sure to officially let everyone in town know about my poetry. What's next—are we gonna move on to making another one of my secrets public knowledge? Crimeny, this weekend has been a __**nightmare**__!'_

Gerald cleared his throat to return attention to himself. "ANYWAY…as I was saying, she really is just his tutor. In fact, me and Lila have been with both of them all weekend getting help from Helga for this poetry assignment we have due tomorrow, right Lila?"

"Hmm…" Lila looked to Gerald, who winked at her. "Oh, um…yes, that's ever so right…uh, Helga's been just oh-too helpful…"

Gerald smiled at Big Bob, "There, you see, nothing's going on between your daughter and Arnold—just a group of friends doing some homework together."

Bob still seemed unsure. "I don't know…"

Suddenly (in a very well intentioned effort to help, but not really thinking about the consequences of her suggestion) Lila spoke up with an enthusiastic smile. "Oh, Helga truly is an ever so wonderful poet—why don't you show them something you've written Helga? Then they can see why Mr. Simmons picked you to help Ar—I mean, all of us."

Helga's eyes went wide and she shook her head 'no' very slightly at Lila.

Olga smiled. "Oh, that's a wonderful idea, Lila! Helga, why don't you get some of your poems and read them to Mummy and Daddy and me? Oooo, you know I've taken a lot of poetry classes at college, Helga—maybe I could give you and your friends some pointers. Of course, I don't expect you're project to be as advanced as the things I've been working on…"

"Thanks, Olga, we get it!" Helga shot at her sister.

Big Bob considered for a moment, then added, "Yeah…that's a good idea. If you're tutoring these kids, little lady, then why not do it right here—show us some of the stuff they're teaching you at that school."

"I'll make some smoothies for everyone—what kind of fruit do you kids like?" Miriam headed toward to kitchen.

A small, nervous, groan came from an obviously perspiring Helga Pataki. Seeing the effect this whole scene was having on her, Lila's smile instantly evaporated into a look of confusion and concern.

Suddenly, though, (and, again, to Helga's _total_ surprise and confusion) Gerald came to the rescue _once more. _ "You know, that really is a great idea…" he sighed dramatically, "but, unfortunately, all of Helga's stuff is back at Arnold's house. You see, she's uh…" suddenly a twinkle came to Gerald's eye as an idea occurred to him, "…she's been tutoring our whole class there. In fact, they're waiting for us at the Boarding House right now…" He put his hand on Helga's shoulder. "And that's why we came here—to get our tutor. So, if it's okay, we'll just be heading back to Arnold's now..." Gerald put his other hand on his best friend's shoulder and motioned to Lila, preparing his three classmates to leave the room.

"Wait a minute!" The four fourth graders stopped in their tracks at the sound of Bob Pataki's voice. Bob turned to his older daughter. "Olga, you picked Helga up before at eh…Arthur's…house—do you know what they're talking about?"

Olga blinked. "Well, this morning it sounded like she was going to see Arnold alone…but when I got there I _did_ see all of her little friends in Arnold's room too." She turned to her little sister. "Helga, why didn't you tell me that that's what you were doing?"

Helga cleared her throat nervously. "I didn't, uh…I thought it was…obvious? Heh, heh…"

"You see, I told you there would be a reasonable explanation, Bob," Miriam said to her husband, smiling.

Bob turned to his wife, trying to maintain an air of superiority despite the fact that his entire argument had just been proven wrong by a bunch of ten-year-olds. "I guess so…" he glared at Arnold, "but 'tutoring' is all my daughter better be doing with you!"

Arnold smiled, trying to hide his blushing. "Helga's been a big help Mr. Pataki—I'm sure I'll get an A thanks to her."

"Well, I'm ever so certain we should get going!" Lila stood up and smiled, hoping to contribute something helpful to the conversation after her apparent blunder with the poetry. All four kids began to head with determination to the exit of the Pataki household.

Suddenly, Olga called out, "Oh, Baby sister, don't walk—I'll drive you! I'd love to see all of your little friends again, and to apologize for taking you away from them…"

"No Olga…just—_no_…" At this point Helga had had it—every single time this weekend when she had thought that things were about to work out, something had gone wrong. Nothing seemed to be able to run _smoothly_—it was like the world was demanding her secret from her (her REAL secret) and wouldn't take no for an answer (at least not without putting her through the most stressful two days of her life).

"Oh, nonsense, Helga—now everybody get into my car and we'll be there in a jiffy!" And, with that, Olga trotted out the door. In a few seconds, the sound of her car starting and her horn giving a few quick honks could be heard from the open window of the trophy room.

Helga gritted her teeth and prepared to walk out to her stoop and explain to her sister firmly and simply that she would NOT be riding with her to the Boarding House. '_There is no way I'm getting into the car with Olga and involving our whole class in all of this…'_

However, a sudden exclamation from Big Bob (who, in the last few minutes, had been sorting out in his head some of what had occurred in his house ever since he'd gotten home) quickly changed her resolve. "Hey, wait a minute!" He pointed at Gerald, who (though he was still trying to maintain his confidant and cool demeanor) couldn't help but swallow hard at the sound of the frightening man before him. "If my daughter's tutoring Alfred over there, then what were YOU doing upstairs ALONE with her in her room…?!" He turned to his youngest daughter. "HELGA?!?!?!"

Helga's eyes widened and she addressed her three fellow fourth graders before this new conflict could go any further. "Okay, you heard Olga, let's GO!!!"

"RIGHT!" Lila, Arnold, and Gerald said back in unison, and suddenly all four ten-year-olds bolted out the front door of the Pataki household and into Olga's running convertible.

Olga (oblivious to her father's recent realization back in the house) turned to face Helga who was suddenly seated directly behind her. "Okay, now make sure you buckle up baby sis—" Helga (as well as Arnold, Lila, and Gerald) had the buckles clicked before Olga could even finish the sentence.

Helga cut her off with a frightened scream. "DRIVE!"

"Oh, okay then!" And with that the group was speeding off to Arnold's boarding house, and to the rest of their fourth grade class.

* * *

"I didn't _want_ it to happen, I said I wasn't going to _let_ it happen, but, for Pete's Sake, I just can't believe that despite everything I'm ACTUALLY IN the car with Olga and that we're ACTUALLY GOING to involve our whole class in all of this…!" Helga finished mumbling to herself under her breath and slouched down in the back seat.

Olga adjusted one of her mirrors so that she could have a view of Helga. "Did you say something, baby sister?"

During her first few minutes in the car (following her quick escape), Helga had begun to calm down a bit from the tension of the Pataki household. However, by now the reality of returning to Arnold's house with OLGA was sinking in. '_Hmph—maybe we should've taken our chances with Bob. I mean, Olga's already told everybody I write poetry—who knows how else she could humiliate me?!'_

"Baby sister?" Olga tried again, this time finally breaking Helga from her thoughts.

The ten-year-old blonde blinked. "Huh? Oh, never mind…" She sunk even lower in her seat and faced the window. '_Well, maybe it won't be SO bad—everyone's probably all left by now anyway… I'll just tell Olga that we were almost done with the tutoring session when she showed up, and that everybody must have gone home for dinner…Yeah, that'll work—excellent plan_!'

"Gerald," Lila turned around in the shotgun seat to address Gerald who was sitting directly behind her, "um…I'm ever so certain that when we all get to Arnold's house to finish the, um, 'tutoring session' that people might be uh…confused…about, um," Lila glanced at Olga and then turned back to Gerald, unsure of how to put into words her fear about the awkward confrontation to come (at least without tipping off Olga to the fact that this entire thing was an elaborate ruse).

Gerald finished Lila's sentence for her. "You mean, the fact that Olga's with us again?"

"Uh…" Lila raised an eyebrow in confusion at Gerald, who winked to let her know what he had really meant. "Yes, Gerald."

"Don't worry about it," he replied casually. "Just leave that to me..."

Arnold, seated in between Gerald and Helga, turned to his best friend with a look even more confused than Lila's had been, and whispered, "Gerald, are you sure this is going to work?"

"It'll be a cinch!" he whispered back. "We'll just walk in, announce that Helga's come back to 'tutor' everybody, and then get them to play along. What could go wrong?" Gerald smiled reassuringly at Arnold.

Overhearing this conversation, Helga (back to her usual scowling self), addressed both boys. "You guys are wasting your time—everybody must have left by now. I mean it's been almost an hour! Why would they bother staying?!"

Arnold swallowed hard and blushed, averting his eyes from Helga's. Helga, however, being the perceptive person that she was, picked up on this avoidance tactic instantly. "Arnold, what is it…?"

Arnold cleared his throat, and began slowly. "Well, I kind of made everybody _promise_ that they would stay until we got back…so that they could apologize to you…"

Arnold waited for Helga's angry reply but was only met with a chuckle and a small punch in the shoulder. "Sheesh, Football Head, you actually had me worried for a second! You told them to wait so that they could _apologize_ to _ME?!_ You told people like Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, Harold Berman, Iggy…to wait around for who knows how long to be _nice_ to _me_?!" Helga crossed her arms and her legs. "Now I KNOW they're not there anymore!" She sighed and put her hands behind her head with a relaxed smile. "This should be a piece of cake!"

Arnold's expression became annoyed. "Helga, I know you don't have the best relationship with everybody in our class but I think you should give them a little more credit—they all really _do_ care about you and they _are_ sorry for hurting your feelings."

"Yeah right… " Helga scoffed, her scowl returning.

"Helga," Arnold grabbed one of her shoulders and turned her so she was facing him, "I'm serious! People don't 'hate you' as much as you think, and maybe if you stopped pushing them away and started treating them like you want to be treated…"

Helga interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Oh, here it comes—the 'Golden Rule' speech."

Arnold ignored her, continuing what he was saying. "…Then MAYBE you'd realize just how special you are to people…and how good of a relationship you can have with somebody who cares about you just as much as you care about them!"

And with that, Arnold crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned away from Helga, a frustrated look on his face.

It took Helga a moment to process what Arnold had said to her, but once she did her eyes widened and her cheeks blushed. She stared at Arnold, waiting for some kind of sign that his words were more than just the product of frustration. ' '_Someone who cares about you as much as you care about them…_' '

However, Arnold merely continued sitting and facing forward, giving no acknowledgement to what he had just said…or its implications…

Suddenly, Gerald spoke up, looking back and forth from Arnold to the nervous girl still staring at him. "You two are some pieces of work, you know that?"

Both fourth graders turned to stare at him. "Huh?"

Gerald shook his head, trying to control the grin spreading across his face. "Never mind, just try and keep from killing each other or anything else until this whole thing is over."

Arnold raised an eyebrow at his friend, unsure of how to respond to this strange statement. Helga merely scowled and slumped lower in her seat, turning to stare out the window again.

"Here we are!" At last, Olga Pataki pulled up to the curb of Arnold's Boarding House.

Helga tried one more plea. "Really, Olga, you don't have to come up! I'll explain to everyone what happened—you don't have to apologize!"

Olga laughed and got out of the car, opening the passenger side door. "Oh, don't be silly, Helga—your friends really do deserve an explanation for losing their tutor for such a long time. Besides," she bent down and lightly touched her sister's nose with her index finger, "I want to see just how good of an effect my baby sister has had on her class—who knows, maybe you'll even be a teacher like me someday?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "Fine…let's just get this over with…"And with that the four fourth graders and Olga Pataki approached Arnold's stoop, with Helga all the while praying silently to herself, '_Please let this work…PLEASE let this work…'_

* * *

"Uh, just let me run up and make sure they're not goofing off up there or anything. Come on, Lila…" Without waiting for a reply from his companions, Gerald grabbed his redheaded friend and raced up the stairs ahead of Olga, Arnold, and Helga.

In less than a minute, both he and Lila burst into Arnold's room, coming face to face with a bunch of ten-year-olds playing a full circle game of gold fish on the floor.

"Got any threes?" Rhonda sighed and rested her head on her chin.

"Nope, don't reckon I do, Rhonda." Stinky yawned as the turn passed to Brainy.

"Okay, everybody…we…need to…!!!" Gerald began to yell in between breaths. He and Lila were almost doubled over with exhaustion with the effort of racing ahead of Olga.

"Gerald, Lila, you're back!" Phoebe smiled and stood up to greet her two friends.

Gerald looked up at the sound of Phoebe's voice. "Phoebe?!" He instantly stood up straight and got his panting under control. "I mean…Hey!" he cleared his throat and smiled. "Uh…so…what're you doing here?"

Very aware that they were running low on time, Lila gently nudged Gerald. "Um, Gerald…" She politely pointed to a clock on the wall.

"Huh?" Gerald noticed the clock and suddenly understood what the red haired girl meant. "Oh right, right! Sorry Phoebe." He turned to the rest of the class. "Listen up, people!" The crowd turned their attentions to him and he continued. "Arnold, Helga, and her sister Olga are gonna be up here in about two minutes! You guys really wanna make up for this afternoon to Helga?"

There were some murmurs of tired assent but he didn't have time to argue for complete 'yeses.' "Then no matter what me, Arnold, Lila, or Helga say, just agree with it! Lila, you try and fill them in and I'll go stall Olga!"

Lila nodded. "Of course, Gerald." But he was already out the door and letting down the ladder before she could finish the sentence.

* * *

Gerald climbed down into the hall where he came face to face with Olga and his two friends. He smiled. "Uh, just a sec—everyone's just picking up some papers, throwing out some pencil shavings…it's been a rough day of 'studying' for _all_ of us…"

Olga smiled. "Oh, Gerald, silly…I just want to pop in and wish them all luck, and tell them how sorry I am for disrupting their studies! Ooo, and maybe I can give them just a couple of pointers, if you wouldn't mind baby sister!" Olga began to ascend the ladder, a nervous Arnold, Helga, and Gerald bringing up the rear.

Suddenly, though, Helga felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned around. "What do you want Football He—" She began to ask.

Arnold cut her off in a whisper. "I'll be right back…" And with that he slipped back down the ladder and into the hall.

Helga blinked, then sighed to herself. '_Oh man…when ARNOLD abandons you, you KNOW whatever's going to happen is going to be bad…' _She then turned her attention upward again, and followed her sister and Gerald into Arnold's room.

* * *

"Knock, knock!" Olga gave a quick rap on the door, opened it, and entered, beaming as usual.

"Hi, Big Sis, we were just cleaning up—you know Rhonda, Stinky, Sid and everybody, don't you?"

Olga looked upon her younger sister's classmates who actually _had_ managed to get the room in a decent bit of order in the few seconds that they had had before her entrance (granted most of the trash was in Arnold's closet, and all of the plates were under Arnold's bed, and Curly was still trapped behind the couch where he had been 'awfully quiet' for a while—but all in all it looked pretty decent).

Suddenly, a high-pitched voice called out from the crowd, "Helga, you're here!" Phoebe Heyerdahl's eyes lit up as she ran to embrace her best friend.

Helga couldn't help but smile at the small girl's warm welcome. "Easy, Pheebs, I only talked to you a few hours ago…When did you get here, anyway?"

Phoebe laughed and released her friend. Suddenly, her face became more serious and she looked from Helga to Gerald and then Lila. "Oh, not too long ago…" She cleared her throat and asked timidly. "Is everything okay…I mean with you and…"

"Uh…" Helga cut her off, "Everything's fine, Phoebe…There was just a misunderstanding and now it's over and I'm back to…um…" Helga swallowed very hard and felt her face go red at what she was about to say. She looked to Gerald as though making sure that this, indeed, was the only way out of yet another serious conflict with her sister. Gerald nodded, and Helga took a deep breath and said unenthusiastically, "I'm back to…help 'tutor' you guys…"

However, rather than responding with a million confused questions, thus giving her away (which Helga had convinced herself would happen)…

"Why, yes, Helga—we've been waiting for you!" announced Rhonda in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Yes—Hel—ga—we—need—your—help—still," Harold said (not-too-obviously reading from something written on his wrist).

"Uh…hi, Helga." Brainy smiled and waved, making his contribution.

"Oh, yes!" In the excitement of finally seeing her best friend, Phoebe had almost forgotten what Lila had told them to do just before Olga entering the room. "I've been trying to help everyone while you were gone, Helga, but you're a better poet than I am. We've really missed you!"

Olga smiled. "Well, I can see you're doing a great job, Baby Sister! Still, if everybody doesn't mind I love to stay for just a little while though and—"

Helga's eyes widened but before she could begin to protest some very familiar faces suddenly appeared in Arnold's doorway to come to her rescue.

"Ms. Pataki! How are you?" A smiling Suzie Kokoschka suddenly placed her arm on a very bewildered Olga Pataki's shoulder.

Olga blinked in surprise at the address. "Pardon me? Sorry, I don't believe I've been introduced to—"

Suzie cut her off with a friendly handshake, and then gestured to the other boarders now entering Arnold's room (a smiling Arnold bringing up the rear). "Our whole happy family? Yes, that's right! You came and left so quickly before that we barely got a chance to properly meet you! Well, I'm Suzie Kokoschka, and this is Mr. Potts—"

Mr. Potts waved, and smiled politely. "Hey, how're you doing?"

Suzie moved to the next person. "…and Mr. Huynh—"

Mr. Huynh followed Ernie's lead. "Hello, it is nice to meet you!"

Suzie walked over to her husband. "…and this is my husband, Oskar."

Oskar grinned. "Hello pretty lady, heh, heh, heh…OW!"

Susie ribbed him with a frown, but then resumed her cheerful demeanor for Olga. "And _your_ name, dear?"

Olga finished processing Suzie's quick introductions and then smiled and replied as nicely as ever, extending her hand. "I'm Olga, Helga's older sister, and it's wonderful to meet all of you. I'm sorry I left so quickly before; there was a small misunderstanding with my baby sister. But it's all been cleared up now, so—"

A still grinning Suzie politely interrupted her. "Oh, don't mention it. Now, since we've all finally been properly introduced, why don't we go downstairs and have some coffee and let the kids finish up, up here?" She began to lead Olga toward the open doorway.

"Oh, but," Olga hesitated and looked back at her sister, "I promised I'd help Helga tutor all of her little friends, and—"

Suzie closed her eyes and waved off Olga's desire. "Oh, I'm sure they'll be fine without a bunch of adults getting in the way. Besides, we don't get visitors very often, except of course for all of Arnold's wonderful friends like your sister—but they're always busy working on some _project_ or playing some _game_ or other that we hardly ever get a chance to talk to any of them. We'd love to hear all about Helga and your family…"

"Yes," Mr. Huynh added, "and about you studies too…"

"Yeah, and how your Dad's business has been holding up ever since the FTi incident," chimed in Ernie.

There was a slight pause, then Suzie rolled her eyes and ribbed her husband who quickly added, "…and, eh…if you're seeing anyone? Heh, heh…OW!"

Again Suzie ribbed Oskar, but then quickly turned back to Olga and commenced to lead her out the doorway once more. "Yes, and I would love to hear all about your mother. You know, over the kids' spring break we became great friends down at that beach just outside of the city. I'd love to get back in touch with her again…"

Olga began to follow, though hesitantly. "Well, I suppose that would be okay…" She turned back to her sister. "Helga, do you think you'll be okay without my help?"

Helga was frozen in place for a moment, totally disbelieving the incredibly lucky thing now happening to her. Quickly, though, she shook her head to clear it, and instantly regained her power of speech. Getting behind her sister to help push her out the door, she said smoothly and sincerely, "What, and deny you the opportunity of getting to know these fine people? Never!" She gestured to the boarders, smiling. "We'll manage here without you, Olga—TRUST ME!"

Olga smiled in response. "Alright, then; I'll just be downstairs, baby sister. You just come and get me, though, if you need anything or want to go home early." She glanced at the other fourth graders surrounding her. "It was very nice seeing you all again, and I just want to say I'm sorry I made Helga come with me before. I hope you all can still finish your projects on time for tomorrow!" The kids just smiled in reply to the apology, and with that Olga happily followed the boarders out of Arnold's room. "Bye!"

Suzie was the last of the group to begin heading back down Arnold's ladder. Quickly, Helga managed to grab her shoulder. "Hey, Suzie!"

Suzie looked up at the obviously relieved young blonde girl in front of her. Helga couldn't help but smile. "Uh…Thanks."

Suzie smiled in return. "Don't thank _us_ Helga; Arnold's the one who came and got us and told us you might need some help with your sister. Besides, it was the least we could do considering this afternoon." She winked, and with that closed the door and descended the ladder.

Helga returned to the center of the room and couldn't help but grin at what her beloved had done for her…and what her fellow fourth graders had done for her as well. '_I just don't believe it—something today FINALLY worked…'_

* * *

For a few seconds, Helga had just remained staring at the closed door of Arnold's room with a grin on her face at her good fortune. Finally, though, she recalled that there were close to a dozen people all standing around her and that they were waiting for some kind of confirmation that this plan had indeed worked.

"Uh, thanks, guys…" A very surprised Helga began, finally gazing around at her classmates. Her eyes fell on Arnold, and she approached him smiling. "And um…thanks, Arnold…"

Arnold merely smiled back at her with a half-lidded gaze, and waved his hand. "Ah, don't worry about it…"

There was a delicate silence between the two ten-year-olds as they both stood just looking at each other for a few seconds.

Suddenly, though, Helga became very aware again of the many eyes watching her (and the curious glances she must have been getting considering her behavior). Accordingly, she tried to resume her usual, gruff demeanor. "I mean…you know, it was a pretty decent thing to do for a FOOTBALL HEAD!" She turned to the other kids, now scowling. "And I guess what you guys did ALMOST makes up for treating me like some kind of homicidal outcast this morning!"

Rhonda gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, in no mood for Helga's attitude considering that she had already missed her mother's fashion show not to mention a hair and manicure appointment today all for her. "Arnold, Gerald, Lila," she turned to them, ignoring Helga's comment, "Can we please leave now?"

"Yeah, Arnold—seriously, spending half of your weekend trapped in a bedroom is _not_ cool!" Iggy came forward.

"Yeah, we're happy you got out of trouble with your sister, Helga," Stinky stood up, "but I reckon my Pa is gonna be really upset if I ain't home in time for supper."

"Ahhh, don't mention food!" groaned Harold. "I'm STARVING!!!"

"Wait!"

All eyes went to Arnold, who felt his cheeks redden slightly at the amount of attention he was suddenly receiving. He cleared his throat and turned to his classmates. "Uh, thanks, everyone for helping us with Olga…But isn't there _something_ you wanted to say to Helga…?"

There was a moment of silence. "We can't ever leave here until we say it, can we?" said Rhonda in a flat voice.

Arnold's face took on an annoyed expression. Helga stopped him before he could say anything, though. "Ah, forget it—I don't want some stinkin' 'apology'. All I wanted was a decent grade in English and now I'm gonna get it, so see you all in the funny papers!" She scowled and turned away.

Harold scowled right back at her. "You know, Helga, you have a…a bad attitude!"

"Yeah," Stinky added, "you're a regular grumpy gus!"

"What did I tell you Nadine—I knew this was a waste of time!" Rhonda chimed in.

"Pft, let's get out of here…" Sid stood up.

"GO! See if I care!" Helga crossed her arms in front of her chest and turned away. '_Finally…they'll be gone and this day from heck will be over, AND (if I'm lucky) maybe I'll get to spend at least a few more minutes alone with Arnold._'

Suddenly, though, Arnold got between Helga and the small mass of ten-year-olds, and yelled in a surprisingly firm voice, "Stop!" Everyone stopped in their tracks.

Arnold blinked, a little surprised that that had worked. "Uh, thanks…" He addressed the crowd. "…Look, you guys, you all made a mistake this morning…and Helga," Arnold glanced at a very stubborn looking Helga G. Pataki, "well, she's been making mistakes for a while…" He turned away from her, anticipating the glare she was probably giving him right now. He continued. "But instead of fighting wouldn't it be easier if you just apologized to each other and finally started getting along?" Arnold removed himself from in between the two parties, gaining confidence in his speech. "I meant what I said about Helga before—she really is a nice, good, decent person once you get to know her, and I know that because of that you guys won't risk your friendship with her and she won't risk hers with you."

'_What's he doing saying stuff like that about me in front of people?! He's going destroy whatever's left reputation after all the poetry stuff Olga said before_!' Despite her worries, though, Helga couldn't help but sigh internally at all of the wonderful things her love was finally saying about her.

Outwardly, however, she didn't miss a beat. Still scowling, turned to Arnold and said in a sarcastic tone, "Alright, that's it, Football Head—I'm cutting you off from epic morality speeches for the rest of the day because frankly I just **can't** **take** any more of them (especially ones that are about me!) Second," she turned to her classmates, "as for you guys…look, I insult people, I threaten people, and sometimes I'm just plain rude to people…but that's just who I am and it's _not_ going to change!"

Helga gazed smugly at the crowd around her, but then suddenly her eyes fell on Arnold: more specifically, a very disappointed and almost sad-looking Arnold. She felt her face soften slightly at the sight of him. '_Well…he should have realized I'd never just go all mushy in front of everyone… I mean, what was he expecting, anyway?! I've got an image to keep up, and besides everyone else started it with that stupid 'ditch Helga' game…' _Yet, despite her best efforts to convince herself of her complete innocence, several of Arnold's words about her own responsibility to her friends and the mistakes she had been making echoed in the back of her mind. '_Well…maybe I can be a 'little' difficult…but if I'm not then people'll start thinking I've gone soft, and no one's EVER going to think THAT about Helga G. Pataki!' _She had almost settled on this argument when one last observation that a friend of hers had pointed out that day sprung into her mind…Much to her annoyance, Lila's voice filled her head. ' '_Well, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to change your reputation, Helga…_'' She growled with frustration. '_Oh great, now LILA'S starting to make sense to me!' _Arnold's eyes had become downcast with disappointment at this point and finally Helga just couldn't take it anymore. '_Ugh, I can't believe I'm actually going to try and do this!'_

She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, softened her voice a bit, and turned to her classmates. "Okay, look, I'm _s-sorry_, okay?! I'm not trying to hurt anybody or attack you guys personally or anything…I'm just being myself… But I _guess_ you guys _are_ my friends and I _guess_ I should have, I don't know, 'considered your feelings' or something…" She let out a deep breath, still scowling but now sounding much more sincere. "…Anyway, that's all I wanted to say." She paused and then added as an after thought. "Oh and…thanks again for the help with Olga. I appreciate it."

A surprised silence fell over the room. Arnold smiled.

'_There—Football Head wanted me to show my 'nice, good, decent' side and that's about as close as it's gonna get_!'

Gerald was the first one to speak up. "Um, Helga…look, I know I already said this but I really am sorry about setting this whole thing up…and for telling Olga that you were here and all…"

Helga raised an eyebrow, surprised by the public apology… In fact, considering all of the helpful stuff Gerald had done for her in the last twenty minutes she'd almost entirely forgotten about his role in beginning the mess she'd gotten into.

Suddenly, other voices began to speak up as well: murmurs of apologies filled the air, much to Arnold and Lila's happiness and Helga's utter surprise.

Iggy stepped forward. "Helga, I guess it would be pretty uncool not to apologize to you after you apologized to us, so…I'm sorry…"

"Uh…thanks, Iggy…" Helga raised an eyebrow in skepticism at what she was hearing.

Rhonda was next. "Helga, look, even though you're a bit crass and uncouth and insulting, and you've got the fashion sense of a sightless—" Brainy ribbed Rhonda. "Ow! I mean, what I'm trying to say is that even though you're all of those things, I suppose you're still a friend of mine and I shouldn't have insulted your abilities as a tutor or gone along with this whole crazy scheme!"

Helga blinked. "Uh, thanks, Rhonda…I guess…" Rhonda smiled.

Nadine got near Helga and whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry too, Helga…I told Rhonda it was a bad idea to come here in the first place but somehow I always end up having to go along with the things _she_ wants to do. She really is sorry, too…in her own way…"

Helga just nodded as Nadine moved away to rejoin Rhonda.

"We're sorry too, Helga." Sheena stepped forward, Eugene by her side.

Eugene smiled. "Actually, even though we came to help Arnold, we really did want to try out our new dance routine in front of an audience!" The two fourth graders did a few steps together, ending in a pose with jazz hands.

"Um…okay…" These apologies were getting weirder and weirder.

Harold, Sid, and Stinky approached.

"Helga…none of us likes when you make fun of things like my love of lemon pudding…"

"Yeah, or how s-sometimes when I get in trouble I call for my mommy…"

"Yeah or my incredibly shrill, high-pitched voice," Stinky and Harold raised eyebrows at Sid, who cleared his throat, "Which I'm working on!"

Stinky finished up. "But anyway…we reckon we should have thought of your feelings before goin' along with Gerald's plan and, well, I suppose we're sorry for fightin' with you."

Harold nodded. "Yeah, and for plannin' to try to tie you up in Arnold's basement…"

"Uh, that's—wait, what?" Helga raised an eyebrow, unsure if she had heard correctly.

Lila cleared her throat, ignoring the question, and said in a cheerful voice. "Well isn't this ever so wonderful—we're all friends again!"

Overwhelmed by the touching scene Lila began to embrace Helga, who instantly pushed her away. "Hey, hey, hey—who said you could touch me?!"

Lila released her and merely smiled. "I'm ever so sorry, Helga."

Helga rolled her eyes and couldn't help but grin. "Oh, don't you start, too—next thing you know the fifth graders'll start knocking at the door trying to apologize for getting me out in last week's baseball game."

Phoebe laughed and smiled warmly at her best friend. "Oh, Helga, I'm so glad that things have worked out!"

"Eh, it could've gone worse, I guess." Helga crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at Arnold with an actual smile. "And, what do you know, Football Head, despite the fact that it was unbearably annoying your fifth major speech in the last forty-eight hours actually helped!"

"Thanks, Helga," Arnold replied, trying to seem serious even though he was fighting a grin.

"And, uh, listen, hair boy," she looked to Gerald who came forward, "I, uh…I owe ya one, for all the stuff you got me out of with Olga…Thanks."

"Ah, don't mention it." Gerald smiled.

She pulled him off slightly to the side and whispered, "Uh, why did you do that stuff anyway?"

Gerald merely grinned and shook his head. "I'll tell you later…" And with that he walked across the room and casually threw himself onto Arnold's bed.

Rhonda cleared her throat and said in voice that finally sounded more sincere than sarcastic, "Well…I guess we should go now." She turned to Nadine and tried to resume her haughty tone. "Come, Nadine—we'll be late for dinner and, besides, Olga made a very good point; we still have to work on our poetry assignments for tomorrow!"

"Yeah, I didn't even get the chance to start mine on account of bein' here most of the day…" Stinky began to approach the door too.

Phoebe sighed. "Unfortunately, I too have yet to complete our assignment…I'm having a great deal of trouble trying to find a rhyme for my ending line that fits in with the syllable count I set up for my stanzas. Hopefully, though, I'll have just enough time to finish up after dinner if I head back now."

There were murmurs of agreement from throughout the room as the crowd began to head for the exit.

Suddenly, Arnold's eyes lit up—he had an idea. '_Helga's not going to be happy with me, but…' _He forced himself to blurt it out, though, before he could lose his nerve. "If you guys are having any trouble, I know someone who could help…" He turned to Helga whose eyes instantly widened. She shot him a deathly glare.

Sid grinned. "Oh, yeah, that's right, we almost forgot—Helga's a 'poet'!" He began to chuckle, and ribbed Harold and Stinky who joined him.

"I'm telling you, I still refuse to believe it until I see some hard evidence! No offense, Helga." Rhonda, who had been making steady progress toward the door, suddenly stopped where she was and turned around to rejoin the conversation, much to Nadine's exasperation.

Helga pulled Arnold toward her and whispered acidly in his ear, "WHAT do you think you're DOING, Football Face?!"

Arnold smiled and moved away from her, addressing the other students. "All I'm saying is that Helga helped me out a lot this weekend—she had a lot of great advice and suggestions and I'm sure she could help you guys too if you'll give her a chance."

"Shut _**up**_, Arnold!" Helga approached him again, fire in her eyes.

Arnold continued to ignore her. "So, what do you say?"

"ARNOLD!" Helga grabbed one of his shoulders and turned him so he was facing her. "No—NO stinkin' way! I'm not going to do this! I don't wanna do this! Do you understand?!"

Arnold gave her a half lidded gaze, and said in an almost playful voice, "Yes you do, Helga…"

"No, I _don't_ Arnold!"

"Well, you did it for me—so why not for everyone?"

Without thinking she began to shoot back, "Because I lo—" Helga, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone, glanced at all of the expectant faces around her and quickly corrected what she had been about to say. "I…I...loved the idea of getting an A in English for doing it and now I'm going to get that A, so we're done here!"

Arnold wasn't thrown by her flimsy excuse at all. "Aw, come on, Helga—everybody already knows about your poetry anyway…You might as well follow Mr. Simmons' advice and start using it to help others…"

"Arnold…I swear…" She clenched her fists.

Arnold closed his eyes and replied in a casual voice. "Well, if you don't _think_ you can do it…"

Helga scoffed, taken aback by the attitude he was taking with her. "Excuse me!?"

He opened his eyes, grinning. "I just mean, it must have been hard enough for you tutoring _me_—It's understandable that you wouldn't be able to tackle this many people…"

"Arnold, I know what you're doing and it's not going to work!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest stubbornly.

Arnold smiled. "I'm not _doing_ anything, Helga. I just don't want you to feel bad that you're not a good enough writer to—'

Helga was shaking with fury at this point. "ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT!" She stormed right into the crowd of her classmates, scowling darkly but determined to say what she had to say once and for all. "Alright, you chuckleheads, I admit it—I, Helga G. Pataki, write poetry! And you know what else, it's GOOD poetry—Simmons likes it and I like it, and that's all you need to know. So, NO, I'm NOT gonna be showing ANY of it to ANY of you because it's honestly none of your business!" She was breathing heavily. "BUT if you guys want some help with your own things for tomorrow then…then…" She looked around and was almost silenced by nerves, but managed to continue. "…Then sit down and start taking notes PRONTO because this is a one-night-only, limited engagement starting right now!" Helga threw herself into Arnold's desk chair, fuming. "And if anyone STILL doesn't believe I can help them," she glared at Rhonda, "then just look at the difference I've made in the Football Head's writing—he STUNK two days ago, and if I can help someone as pathetic as HIM then I can help ANYBODY!" Helga slapped her left hand on the top of the desk and pointed her right index finger in a challenging manner at the somewhat taken aback crowd before her.

Arnold blinked—he hadn't expected her to blow up _this_ much.

Rhonda raised an eyebrow at him. "Arnold, is she telling the truth about you?"

He couldn't help but blush slightly. "Well…yes…"

The crowd began to converse. Suddenly, Phoebe stepped forward. "Helga," she began timidly in the face of this aggressive side of her best friend, "I'd be honored if you'd help me with my poem…"

Helga grinned. "Well, then park it here, Phoebe, and let's get going!"

Phoebe smiled and sat on the floor near her friend.

Helga eyed the crowd again. "Any other takers before I stop caring about proving Football Head wrong?"

A moment of silence. Gerald came forward next. "I'm with Phoebe on this one…" He sat himself next to the young dark-haired girl, and smiled in her direction. She smiled back.

"Uh…I'm in…" Brainy joined the growing group around Helga.

Arnold looked at the still hesitant bulk of the crowd. "Come on, guys, what have you got to lose?"

A few more murmurs, and then…

"Well, I guess I'd be a dang fool not to at least consider it—my English grade's gonna be purty low after all those failed spellin' tests…I need all the help I can get," Stinky admitted.

"Yeah, I always hate having to try and do poetry. It's so _girly_—" Helga shot Harold a harsh glare, causing him to swallow hard and instantly change the course of his sentence. "I mean…I'm probably gonna need some help too."

Sid nodded in agreement with his two friends. "Yeah, I guess you're right." And all three boys approached Helga's group.

Sheena looked at Eugene. "Well, I guess we could use some time off from dancing…and it _is_ for schoolwork… Besides, we can rehearse later!" Eugene nodded in agreement.

"Failing is _not_ cool…" Iggy came forward.

"Well, I suppose I could use a hand just ever so much as well!" Lila bounced toward the group.

"Fine, Helga, but this better not be a trick! If I don't get a good grade on this assignment my parents will kill me! Come, Nadine—you'll be joining us too, of course?" She grabbed Nadine by the arm and marched with her over to Helga's group.

Nadine sighed and rolled her eyes as she followed in her best friend's wake. '_Why does she even bother asking_?'

Suddenly, the door to Arnold's room burst open to reveal Grandpa carrying several large, thin cardboard boxes emitting a very familiar aroma. He set the boxes down and wiped some sweat from his brow, cracking his back. "Whew, next time I'm having these things delivered to the roof instead of the stoop!" Suddenly, the elderly man noticed his Grandson's presence. "Hey, Shortman, when did you finally get back? All your little friends have been waiting for you, you know—did everything work out with your angry friend with the pink bow and the one eyebrow and her sister?"

Arnold blushed and motioned to Helga, who raised an eyebrow at this curious description of herself, "Yeah, Grandpa—Actually, she's going to help us all work on our English project for tomorrow."

Grandpa grinned slyly as he looked back and forth from his Grandson to the scowling girl at his desk. "I see…well, I _thought_ you kids might end up being here for a while longer so I took the liberty of ordering you all some pizzas!"

Cheers went up from everybody and several of the fourth graders raced over to the hot boxes to open them up and start in on their early dinners.

Arnold turned to his grandfather. "Thanks, Grandpa!"

"Sure thing, Shortman—you and your friends have fun. Oh, and Helga?"

Helga raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah?"

Grandpa winked. "Good to have you back!"

Helga smiled at him as he turned to head back through the door, chuckling to himself. '_I __knew__ this would be a long Sunday night…heh, heh, heh!_'

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Meanwhile, back in the room, all of the kids had finally gotten slices and were now reseating themselves around the floor, prepared to finally start working on their poetry assignments. Helga, however, suddenly finding herself a bit too nervous to eat considering the position she was now in, merely moved to Arnold's bed and sat wide-eyed cracking her knuckles in an attempt to psyche herself up for the task at hand.

Arnold, noticing this strange behavior, turned from the pizza boxes and went to sit down next to her on the bed. "Helga? Are you okay?"

"Huh?! Oh," she stopped fumbling with her hands, "I'm—I'm fine…I mean," she scowled, "considering the fact that you just egged me into publicly humiliating myself, I couldn't be better."

He shook his head. "Helga," he grabbed one of her hands in both of his causing her breath to catch in her throat, "I know that somehow, even if you don't want to admit it, you're proud of everything you write and who you really are…all you have to do now is let other people see that." He winked at her, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

Remembering she was in public, though, Helga instantly shook her head to clear it and pulled her hand away from him. "Oh…just shut up and get me some of those notebooks we were using yesterday! And a bunch of pencils too! Come on, ya bunch of slackers!" She addressed the students now happily feasting on pizza around her. "Quit stuffing your faces and get over here so I can hear what all of you've got so far!"

The class began to migrate closer toward Helga again. Arnold, meanwhile, quickly retrieved his and Helga's notebooks from the previous day, along with the pencils. He placed them near her and asked curiously. "Hey, Helga…why do you want the notebooks we already _used,_ anyway?"

Helga gave him a mischievous grin, which made him pale slightly. "Well, first, Arnold, unless you happen to have an extra ten notebooks lying around somewhere we're just going to have to give everybody a few blank pages from these. And second," Arnold gulped, very nervous about how happy Helga seemed about revealing this last part, "you wanted me to make everybody better writer's and that's just what I'm going to do—and what better way to teach them than through _example_!" Helga flipped through Arnold's notebook and pulled out a familiar folded piece of paper stuck in middle near the spine. "Ah, here we are—that 'special' poem of yours that Simmons handed back on Friday!"

Arnold blushed. "But Helga, I thought you said that that poem wasn't any good!"

"Exactly…" Helga's grin became even more devious-looking. She turned to the others around her. "Hey, who wants to hear _first_ _hand_ how much I fixed up old Football Head's writing—if you thought his morality speeches were dull as dirt you should read what I've got here!"

Arnold crossed his arms in front of his chest, and his eyes narrowed slightly. His voice was flat. "Helga…"

She turned back to him and said confidently, "Hey, I'm just giving the people what they want, Arnoldo—besides, _you're_ the one who suggested that I tutor everyone in the first place." She winked at him.

Arnold only rolled his eyes—he was slightly embarrassed that Helga would be using his work as a 'before and after' example, but at the same time he was just happy that somehow he'd finally managed to get through to possibly the most interesting and complicated girl he'd ever known. For the first time, she was going to be herself without fear or reservation and, in his opinion, that was worth far more than a few of his words on an old piece of paper.

Meanwhile, though Helga was appearing confident and almost smug on the outside, on the inside she could feel her stomach flipping and a cold clammy sensation coming over her body. '_Oh, for the love of Pete, what have I gotten myself into?_' She looked around at the happy…almost _eager_…faces seated around her, and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. '_Alright—let's do this…_'

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**A/N:**

Okay, that's all for now (yet again, lol!) Chapter 10 is on its way—I finally finished taking notes on all the other chapters so now I'm ready to write (I have a lot of fun stuff planned that I hope you guys all enjoy ;) ) I've also been coming up with a lot of other fic ideas that I'm excited about doing, so stay tuned for more stories from me if you enjoyed this one :) Happy Reading!

AXH Forever!!!

~Azure129


	10. Uh Oh, Arnold said the F Word!

_Reposted with grammar edits 1/6/2010._

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**A/N:**

Wow guys it has been a while since I updated—seriously, I'm sorry for keeping all of you waiting like this but besides being unbearably busy I am a raging perfectionist, lol. Still, I hope a chapter of over 17,000 words full of awkward conversations, physical comedy, and possibly a little fanservice will make up for it ;) I would like to make one thing very clear though before you all get to reading: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL CHAPTER OF THIS STORY!! It was going to be but…well…my name is Azure129 and I have an over-writing problem :) About two more chapters should be coming, and I actually have the first fifteen pages of the next one written up in word (a very rough draft but the plot's pretty solid).

A big thanks to everyone who has been reviewing and encouraging me to continue with this story :) Sorry to anyone who I promised a 'near future' update to but didn't come through for—I really thought I could get this done sooner but my writer's block just wouldn't let up. Please keep reviewing though, and for anyone who doesn't have time to reread the last nine chapters (I reread the entire story today and it took me hours!!) I'm putting a small recap below this just to remind you of what's up!

**RECAP:**

_Friday afternoon Simmons assigned Helga to be Arnold's poetry tutor since he…well…is bad at poetry. Arnold took Helga's poem and read it, and the two of them spent Saturday playing games with each other; Helga was trying to get him to admit to taking her poem while avoiding the subject of her confession and Arnold was trying to get her to admit that the poem was about him and wanted more than anything to talk about the confession. They also had dinner with the boarders. Sunday morning started with a lot of character development dream sequences followed by Helga escaping Olga's clutches and Arnold angering the boarders. After some awkward moments both Arnold and Helga ended up in Arnold's room again and finished Arnold's tutoring. The two then listened to some records and Arnold went crazy trying to undo Gerald's mess of inviting everyone to the Boarding house to get rid of Helga. Olga came to get Helga and informed everyone that she was Arnold's poetry tutor, Helga left angry, and Arnold got Lila and Gerald together to go over to her house and apologize. Meanwhile Brainy kept everyone in the room so that they could apologize to Helga later when she got back. At Helga's house Arnold and Helga got into a fight and Arnold kissed Helga. Gerald talked to Helga one on one and accused her of leading a lovesick Arnold on—she denied it and told him that her secret was that she was deep voice. Lila, meanwhile, called Arnold out on his feelings for Helga. The Patakis caught the kids, but Gerald smooth talked Olga into taking them back to Arnold's house (but not before accidently overhearing Helga say that she loved Arnold). Gerald and Lila got the kids upstairs to play along with the story of Helga being all of their tutors, and the boarders managed to keep Olga preoccupied downstairs so that she wouldn't have any chance to figure out the truth. There were some arguments among Helga and her peers, but then everyone apologized to everyone and they were all about to go home. Suddenly though, Arnold suggested that Helga tutor them all in poetry for real, and he used reverse psychology on her to get her to say yes. Now she's on the spot and about to give her entire class a poetry tutoring session._

Okay, so without further ado here we go!

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 10: **

**Uh Oh, Arnold said the F word!!**

(Yeah, that title's not gonna make any sense for a while but just go with it ;) )

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'_Alright—let's do this…_' This was about the third time Helga had swallowed hard and repeated this statement inside of her head, but she still had yet to address her waiting classmates. Realizing, though, that she was starting to get some concerned looks from the people around her, she took a deep breath and tried (despite the complete blank she was drawing as to how to do so) to begin. "So, um…I guess everyone sit down and…um…we can start…?"

Used to obeying Helga's commands, her fellow fourth graders began to arrange themselves in a semi-circle on the floor around the ten year old blonde, though the unusually unsure (and could it be…nervous?) tone of her voice caused quite a few eyebrows to be raised among the group.

Helga was sitting down on the edge of Arnold's bed overlooking everyone, and for the first time in her life she felt a genuine terror at the prospect of addressing a crowd. '_Come on, Helga, old girl—pull it together! You've taken charge of these chuckleheads before; just do what you normally do…and make sure you don't totally blow your secret to anybody ELSE in the process!_'

As all of this was occurring, Arnold had been carefully watching the facial expressions of his former tormentor and now current friend, and was starting to worry. '_Uh oh…I just thought she'd be a little annoyed at doing something like this…I didn't think she'd be terrified!'_

Helga, meanwhile, cleared her throat and tugged at her collar, feeling a cold sweat forming on the back of her neck. "Okay, so…as Arno—uh, I mean as Football Head over there was saying earlier…" she jerked her thumb in Arnold's direction and a nervous smile came to her lips, "uh, I've been helping him with his poetry assignment this weekend…" She couldn't help but cringe at the words coming out of her mouth. She glanced around at her classmates, almost certain that despite their proclaimed eagerness they would suddenly turn on her and burst into laughter.

However, all Helga saw upon closely examining each of their faces was waning interest and in some cases complete boredom. She closed her eyes and sighed to herself. A flicker of disappointment now came across her face. '_I knew this was a stupid idea…I don't have the backbone to actually talk to these guys about all this stuff, and now I'm going blow this whole 'chance to be myself' that Arnold tried to set up. Crimeny, I really AM a basket case!'_

Helga was just about ready to fake a headache and send the familiar students before her home when suddenly she felt a pressure beside her on the bed, and a very warm feeling on her right hand.

Instantly, her eyes shot open and she turned to her right only to see Arnold sitting beside her on the bed and smiling at the crowd before them, his hand firmly holding her own. Helga's breath caught in her throat and she blinked at the sight of her beloved. Realizing how they must look together right now, she glanced again out into the sea of faces on the floor of the room trying to observe their reactions. Sure enough, quite a few of the students seemed a little more wide-eyed than before, and several were whispering to each other briefly and even pointing. Helga even began to notice a snicker or two, and would have gladly pulled her hand away from Arnold's if she hadn't been not only paralyzed by the unexpected touch her beloved but gripped quite firmly by his apparently very strong hand. 'Oh, for Pete's sake, I'm gonna pass out! That's it—I'm just going to faint into the center of the whole group with a stupid grin on my face and it won't take long before the school gossip (Rhonda) and the school blabbermouth (Harold) and everyone else put two and two together and come up with the conclusion that Helga loves Arnold!'

And in truth Helga really did feel a bit faint (the color now having noticeably drained from her face). Arnold, however, paid no attention to her or to the reactions of their classmates to his bold move. He simply smiled and began to speak. "What I think Helga's trying to say to you guys is that we covered so much stuff together this weekend that it's hard to pick a place to begin, right Helga?" He turned to the still quite frazzled girl next to himself and smiled warmly.

Helga was a bit stunned for a moment, but then realizing that the longer she didn't speak the more strange she and Arnold being together like this would seem, she suddenly replied, "Uh…yeah…Football H—uh, Arnold…"

Arnold imperceptibly squeezed her hand a bit harder and casually said back to her, "Personally, I think we should start where you and I started on Saturday."

Meanwhile, Gerald had been observing this sudden and surprising exchange between his best friend and the girl who apparently (he swallowed hard and a tremor of discomfort went through him, as he still hadn't gotten quite used to the idea) 'loved' him. He had also been noticing the increase in whispering and silent snide remarks that had been occurring as Arnold continued to hold onto Helga's hand without any sign of letting go. '_Man…I know he's trying to help, but Arnold's gonna blow everything if he doesn't cool it! There's gotta be something I can…' _Gerald took a quick glance around the room and, seeing a very familiar face, suddenly came up with an idea. Without hesitation he stood, grabbed Phoebe Heyerdahl by the hand (much to her surprise), and pulled them both onto the other side of Helga on the bed.

"Gerald, what are you—" Phoebe began to whisper to him, quite stunned.

"Shh, just trust me…" he whispered back, giving her a quick wink. He then turned his attention to the now even more curious students on the floor before them. He smiled smoothly, ignoring the confused glances Arnold and Helga were giving him about what he had just done. "So ,what do you guys think—should we start where Arnold and Helga started?"

There were a few nods and quiet yeses from the crowd and a few exasperated 'Can we just get on with its' from those with less patience. However, Gerald did not care so much about the affirmative replies as he did about the fact that everyone's focus was at least briefly off of Arnold and Helga: it looked less conspicuous having the four of them on the bed then just those two, after all.

Helga breathed a mental sigh of relief at what Gerald had just done. '_Maybe it won't be such a bad thing having tall hair boy know about my secret…at least he's not as dense as Arnold! Sheesh, the little do-gooder is probably so blinded by the idea that he's 'helping me' somehow that he doesn't even realize how what he's doing must look to everyone_!'

Meanwhile, Arnold, noticing that Helga still had yet to speak more than a single sentence aloud, quickly prompted her to back up Gerald's suggestion. "What do _you_ think, Helga?"

Helga came out her thoughts at the sound of his voice. Realizing that she couldn't go on acting like she was about to have some kind of breakdown, she swallowed hard and braced herself. _'Alright, Helga, just be calm about this and remember; you're in charge! You're holding all the cards here—THEY want help from YOU! Now, SPEAK, already!'_

Helga cleared her throat and looked her fellow classmates square in the eyes. She hesitated for one more second and was about to start slow with a simple agreement with what Arnold had just said, when suddenly she felt a jolt of…energy? No, that wasn't quite the right word…it was almost like a boost of moxy, a flowing in of pure life itself. Curious, she glanced slightly to her right, and then realized just what the source of this sudden, inspiring sensation was. Arnold, sensing her continued hesitation, had moved their interlocked hands behind their backs and was now actually pushing his arm entirely against her own. She could feel the warmth up and down her connected limb like electricity…

Only a few seconds of this new adrenaline rush and suddenly the old take-charge Helga was officially back and ready for battle. She smirked playfully and casually replied to Arnold's question, "Yeah, I GUESS that would be the best thing to do, Arnoldo…" She scowled in his direction and pointed a finger from her free hand at him. "But DON'T start thinking I'm gonna follow all of your suggestions for the rest of the night or anything! These chuckleheads might not be able to get through a single day without your nosy advice but Helga G. Pataki can always handle things on her own! Got it, Football Head?!"

Facing Arnold meant that one of Helga's eyes was toward the wall near his bed (as opposed to the other one which was being observed by their classmates). Helga tried her best to use this eye to communicate to Arnold the fact that although she appreciated his help, and although he had had enough sense to hide their hands, and although thanks to what he'd done she could finally speak, they were still the center of attention and she him needed to cool it—now!

Arnold, though, being as always a little dense, merely continued touching her and smiling. "Right, Helga. Sorry. Whatever you say…"

Helga tried to remove her hand from his grasp herself, but his grip was still as firm as ever and the process of wriggling out from it on her own would involve too much movement to be inconspicuous. Not to mention, between Arnold on her right and Gerald and Phoebe on her left, she didn't exactly have a lot of space to work with. She waited another second to see if Arnold would finally get the message, but he still made no sign of letting her go. She sighed to herself in frustration and rolled her eyes: '_Clueless_.' Yet, at the back of her mind she couldn't help but also smile at the fact that she was getting to touch him at least one last time this weekend.

Finally, Helga turned back to her classmates with a scowl and a smirk, resuming her lecture. "And that's lesson number one, people! Whatever I say goes, no matter what!"

The sound of a few pens scratching on papers suddenly filled the air, followed by one deep "Ow! Hey!" and one high pitched one as Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd elbowed Harold Berman and Sid who were on either side of her. "Don't write THAT down, you two—honestly!" Both boys blushed and Rhonda turned to look at Helga with an annoyed expression. "Helga, are we going to get some actual _tutoring_ any time this evening, or are we just going to be listening to your delusional power trip, because if that's the case then I—"

"Aw, stifle, sister, I was just setting down the ground rules! We'll get started now before the 'princess' has a conniption!" Helga took a final glance over the crowd of her classmates who were now eagerly waiting with pens in hands for what she would say next. She smiled smugly to herself and almost had to fight back a full on chuckle at the thought that she had been so nervous before.

Possibly to make sure that she was indeed finally back on track, Arnold squeezed Helga's hand one last time much to her surprise. _'Crimeny, do I have to draw him a diagram or something…?!_' She sighed mentally and thought for a second. '_I have to get him to focus on something besides me without making a billboard that says 'Arnold, STOP BEING PUBLICALLY OBVIOUS!!' Shouldn't be THAT hard…'_ Suddenly, she realized that his folded up poem was still in her free hand. '_Perfect_…'

"All right, Arnoldo…" She tossed the paper ball into the air and on reaction he released his grip on her and used both of his hands to catch it. '_Ha! I knew that would work!'_ Helga smiled at him devilishly. "Looks like it's time to face the music—give your poem to Stinky over there so he can pass it around to everyone, and we can get this show on the road!" Arnold blinked, suddenly remembering her threat to use his poem as an example.

"Helga, are you sure we have to…"

"Now, Head Boy!" She scowled and stared him down.

Reluctantly, Arnold gave over the poem to the crowd of eager fourth graders who began to pass it around and read it one by one.

And at last, Helga officially began her lecture. "Well, for starters, the first thing you guys will probably notice is that Arnold's poem is a narrative, meaning that it's told like a story. Sadly, though, our silly little paste-for-brains Football Head only did just that—tell a story. There's no real imagery, or inspiration, or," she used air quotes and did a dead ringer impression of Mr. Simmons, " 'special genuine human reaction' in it…" The other kids giggled at her impersonation, and this development only made Helga loosen up even more. She smiled. "Do you guys get what I mean?"

Harold raised his hand and spoke. "So, you mean…it's better to write 'how you feel' about something than just writing 'about' that something?"

She winked. "You got it, pink-boy!" Harold smiled and wrote a few notes down on his paper.

Helga addressed the rest of the crowd. "So, can anyone give me a specific example of what I'm talking about?"

Rhonda immediately raised her hand and said in a haughty voice, "Well, in _my_ last poem for Mr. Simmons' class I wrote about how one of my many, many, MANY fashionable outfits was particularly special to me because my grandmother (a famous fashion designer, of course) created it specifically for me for my 10th birthday! It truly is a one of a kind original, you know!" She smiled smugly at Nadine, who only sighed to herself and rolled her eyes, though Rhonda didn't pay it much attention.

Helga, likewise, rolled her eyes (though much more noticeably). "Well, you went the long way of getting there but, yes, that is a good example, Rhonda." She paused as some more notes were taken by the students in front of her, and then continued. "Alright, now the second thing you'll probably notice is the lack of ANY set rhyme scheme in Arnold's poem. Poems don't have to rhyme, of course, but the people who write them should definitely pick whether or not they're going to in advance, right, Arnold?" Helga gave Arnold a smug look and the kids tried in vain to stifle some giggles, though Gerald, Phoebe, and Lila managed to keep themselves under control.

Arnold blushed a little, cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. Helga grinned and continued. "Not to mention, Football Head's _meter_! I mean, for Pete's sake, it was all over the place—there were lines anywhere from two syllables to twelve!" Lila couldn't help but laugh slightly.

Arnold's eyes narrowed a bit and he said very stiffly, "Helga…"

Helga, however, was on a role, and continued talking very animatedly. "And don't even get me started on the uneven stanzas..." Phoebe was trying to stifle a grin.

Arnold had his hands on his hips and looked with annoyance at the fully carried away Helga Pataki. "Helga…"

"And who in their right mind tries to find a perfect rhyme for the word 'orange,' anyway? And not just once but FOUR times!!" Gerald was trying to fake that his laughter was a small coughing fit, though he was doing very poorly at it. Helga went on. "And how many orange things important enough to need mentioning could he have come across in the 36 hours it took him to save the neighborhood, anyway?!"

At this point everyone in the room was having a good chuckle at Helga's ribbing of Arnold. Frustrated, Arnold quickly did the only thing he could think of to make her finally stop. "Helga!" Her hands were crossed over her chest, so he grabbed her knee and gave it a quick but firm squeeze.

Instantly, Helga couldn't stop a quick blush from coming to her face. She suddenly crossed her legs, it being the only action she could think of to remove his hand before anyone could fully notice what he had just done. She took a quick breath to regain herself. '_Why that little…I mean, okay I was getting a little carried away, but still… Oh well, I'll deal with him later…' _Rolling her eyes to cover up her embarrassed reaction, Helga replied as casually as possible. "Okay, okay, Arnoldo, don't have a COW! Sheesh, I DID tell you I was gonna be using your poem as an example to help them, for cripes sake!"

Despite the fact that he was, by this point in his life, quite used to Helga attacking him in public, Arnold still could not help but feel slightly miffed at her persistence. So, rather than just letting it go, his eyes narrowed even more than before and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. He turned his head away from hers and whispered to himself in a tone just loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough for the class to pick up on it, "Maybe we should start analyzing YOUR poem, then…"

Gerald (who, being on the bed, happened to be in earshot of Arnold's comment) stared wide-eyed at his best friend, unbelieving what he had just heard. '_Mmm, mmm, mmm! That boy has a death wish…_' Phoebe, meanwhile, looked on with concern, still not knowing all of the details of all that had passed between Arnold and Helga over the past few days.

Helga was momentarily shocked by Arnold's unexpected statement, but quickly regained her composure. '_That's it! Enough games!_' And, to ensure that there would be no more manipulative touching or dangerous side comments, she made a show of forcibly rocking into him with such a shove that he was not only thoroughly separated from her, but actually fell off the end of his bed. "Whoops! How _clumsy_ of you!" She snickered.

The room burst into laughter (not that P.S. 118's fourth grade had suddenly turned against Arnold or anything, but hey—good physical comedy IS good physical comedy :) ). Helga smirked and crossed her arms over her chest again, seemingly very pleased with herself. Inside, though, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt about actually having used physical force against her beloved. '_I hope he's okay… But come on, Arnold—seriously! We're in front of everybody and you're holding my hand, and grabbing my knee_,' she felt a blush come to her face again, '_and whispering about my poetry!?...Oh, __please__ just let him know I didn't mean to hurt him or anything…Of course, if he hadn't been stupid enough to do all that stuff I wouldn't be in this position…Aw, sheesh, Arnoldo, why do you always end up complicating my life!?_'

Meanwhile, Arnold (who was still rubbing the arm she had pushed him onto), raised an eyebrow and turned back to Helga, surprised at her sudden and complete dismissal of himself. However, Helga paid him no apparent attention and instead turned back to their now very attentive classmates and announced with her usual commanding air, "You know, I think this'll go a whole lot faster if you guys split up into a few groups—then when I'm done with the lesson you can compare notes, talk about ideas for your poems, and whatever else. And I'll walk around check to see how everyone's doing. Got it?"

There were a few nods and then the kids started to congregate into parties of two or three. Waiting for some explanation from Helga about her reaction to his whisper but receiving none, Arnold soon stood as well and prepared to form a group. "Come on, Gerald, let's—"

Helga stood up and cut him off, sticking out a hand toward his chest and blocking his farther movement toward his best friend. Arnold raised an eyebrow at her and put his hands on his hips. "Hey!"

Helga crossed her arms in front of her chest and responded in a patronizing tone with a scowl set firmly upon her face, "There's no need for you to trouble yourself by joining us, Arnoldo—I already helped _you_ do _you're_ assignment for tomorrow, remember?"

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her, unsure of where she was going with this. Helga continued in a falsely sweet voice. "You just take a seat on the bed here and wait until we're done talking about your first attempt at a piece of poetry…" She rolled her eyes and added in the exact same volume and tone that Arnold had used to make his previous comment about her own poem, "If you could even _call_ it _that_."

Arnold blinked. His eyes narrowed and he was about to respond but stopped as he noticed Gerald standing a few feet behind Helga's angry form with his eyes wide and firmly (but discreetly) shaking his head. Arnold could not help but be annoyed at his best friend for seemingly taking Helga's side, and (being the dense little hero he had always been) was actually about to question his actions aloud. Suddenly, though, he noticed Gerald making a new gesture; he jerked his thumb in the direction of the other students. Arnold thought for a few seconds. '_Maybe Gerald's right…this isn't the right time for this. Helga's just started embracing her true self in front of other people, but if we start fighting she might get angry again and storm off…Besides, I did kind of provoke her with that thing about her poem (even if she DID start picking on mine first),'_ he couldn't help but add.

Arnold sighed and relaxed his face. He turned to Helga and responded kindly, "Sure, Helga, I'll just be over here. Good luck and if you need anyone to help you monitor the groups just let me know!" And with that he sat happily on his bed, his hands in his lap, smiling supportively at Helga.

Helga blinked, not a little surprised by his sudden backing down and almost a little disappointed by it as well. In truth, she had been actually enjoying those brief glimpses at Arnold's more aggressive side that she had been seeing ever since…well, ever since…_ 'Ever since I confessed, actually… Hmm, weird; you know, I never noticed that befo—'_

"Um, Helga…Helga…Helga?"

She felt a light but warm tap on her shoulder and her thought was interrupted as Arnold's voice calling her name brought her back to reality. "Huh?"

Arnold smiled and raised an eyebrow in curiosity at her sudden daze. "I think everyone's got their groups, and they're waiting for you to start again."

Helga tried to regain her sense of authority. "Oh…uh, right, right." She turned back to the students around her. "Okay 'gang' listen up—we already covered subject matter and rhyme…now let's move on to the wonderful world of imagery!"

And with that, the first ever Helga G. Pataki fourth grade poetry tutoring session officially got underway right there in Arnold's room on that Sunday evening…

* * *

"Hey, Arnold! Pass me that trash bag, will ya?"

Arnold threw a few used paper plates into the large white plastic bag he was using and brought it over to Helga. "Here you go, Helga."

Helga Pataki gingerly took the item and shoved an empty pizza box inside of it. She was about to tie it up and put it over in the corner with the others, when she stopped and addressed the other kids still in the room. "Hey, anybody got anything else that needs to go in here before I close it up?"

Gerald walked over and threw a few Styrofoam cups inside, and Phoebe dropped in a handful of crumbs.

Helga glanced upwards toward the skylight ceiling. "Hey, Ms. Perfect, you got anything for the trash?"

Lila looked down at Helga, smiling from her position on top of Arnold's wall ladder. "Oh, Helga, I'm ever so certain that my hands have been just oh too full with trying to open up one of these panels to air this place out to have collected any more trash." Lila pushed at the nearest glass pane with all her might but it still wouldn't budge.

Arnold was about to come to her aid when much to his surprise (and mild curiosity) Helga came forward instead to help her. She stood on Arnold's bed and climbed the first few steps of the ladder behind Lila. "It sticks, so you've gotta pull down a little bit first and then use the frame to push it out."

Lila smiled cheerily. "Thank you ever so much, Helga!"

Helga rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning: '_Typical 'Lila' answer_.' Somehow, though, Lila's seemingly eternal cheeriness had not bothered her nearly as much since their talk back at the Pataki kitchen. Looking back on it, Helga realized that she was not only starting to be able to tolerate Lila but that they might even have the possibility to become…friends? _'Heh…wonders never cease.'_

Helga climbed down from the bed and picked up the trash bag again: it contained the final remnants of the post-poetry session clean up of Arnold' s room. All in all, the entire thing hadn't been nearly as awkward as she had imagined it would be, and all of her classmates had finally completed their assignments. '_Well, except for me, of course…but I'm sure I can just dig up one of my old Arnold poems from one of my pink books or something…and speaking of my pink books…'_ Helga took a quick glance at the small pink book that she had casually swiped from a shelf near Arnold's window while she had been helping Lila, '_It's about time I got this back…_' Making sure no one was looking at her she quickly stuffed it into her jumper pocket.

'_Now all that's left to do is finish cleaning up and this semi-nightmare of a weekend will finally be over.'_

As she was thinking all of this, Arnold approached her, looking back and forth from the window to Helga with a puzzled expression on his face. He hesitated before speaking but decided that, considering all that had happened between them in the last few days and the fact that most of their classmates were gone, it wouldn't hurt just to ask. "Um, Helga…?"

"What?!" She nearly jumped out of her skin. '_Did he just see me with the pink book?! Oh Crimeny, that's ALL I need!!!_'

He blinked, a bit taken aback, and casually continued his question. "Um, I was just wondering how you knew about the window sticking like that?"

She gave a huge mental sigh of relief and resumed her usual attitude. "Well, duh—we just used it to get in here _this_ _morning,_ Arnoldo." She dropped the full trash bag on the floor and sat casually on Arnold's bed, one leg over the other and her arms stretched back to prop herself up.

"But the window only sticks when you open it from the ins…" However, rather than finishing his sentence, Arnold just sighed and accepted the probability that he would not get the truth from Helga about how she had come across this information, especially since there were still three other people around. "Um, never mind…"

'_Oh, stupid, __stupid__!!'_ Helga tried to be casual about her slip up, but couldn't help swallowing hard and slightly avoiding eye contact with Arnold before replying, "Suit yourself, Football Head…" Hoping that no one would catch the awkward moment, she instantly turned to another member of their party and changed the topic of conversation. "Hey, Phoebe!" Helga observed her best friend trying to reach an empty cup on one of Arnold's higher bookshelves. "Here, let me get that for you!"

Helga walked over with the still open bag and handed it to Phoebe who held it open. She then reached up, tipping the empty cup down in Phoebe's direction. "Arigato Gozaimasu, Helga."

"No prob, Pheebs." Helga grabbed the bag back from her and tied it up, tossing it into the trash corner. She then brushed her hands together to clean them off and placed them on her hips, looking around. "Well, I think that's finally everything! Congratulations, ladies and gentlemen, it's finally _over_!" With these words and a smile on her face Helga was about to collapse into Arnold's couch when she suddenly found herself landing with a thud on the floor instead.

"Hey, Arnold!" She rubbed her backside, which had hit hard against the floor. "Any particular reason the couch is in the wall instead of under my butt?" She stood up and scowled at him in annoyance.

"Oh, sorry, Helga." Arnold smiled and grabbed his room remote from the nearby end table. _'Hmm…I wonder why the couch has been closed this whole time, anyway… You'd think people would have wanted to sit on it after being here for so long.'_

Helga interrupted his thoughts. "Any day now, Head Boy!"

Arnold came out his thoughts and pressed the button. Instantly, his couch came out of the wall, looking as it always had, and Helga sat herself on one end.

'_Hmmm…_' Arnold lingered on the nagging feeling he was having for a moment but, coming up with nothing, he put the matter out of his mind. He took a seat on the free end opposite Helga, leaving the remote on the end table.

Lila, Phoebe, and Gerald all took Helga and Arnold's cue and found places to sit around the room; Lila at Arnold's desk and Phoebe and Gerald on Arnold's bed.

There were a few seconds of silence as the five children fully absorbed the fact that all the stress and drama of the past two days was finally at an end.

Suddenly, and almost unintentionally, Arnold spoke up. "So…what now?"

Helga reached over and gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. "Well, Football Head, normally when a bunch of kids have eaten dinner, finished their homework and have school tomorrow they go _home_ and go to _sleep_…Unless anyone wants to add one more crazy incident to this weekend from heck?"

Arnold tried to stifle a laugh—normally he just brushed off Helga's sarcasm but considering the recent time they had spent together he could 't help but appreciate her sense of humor (especially when it wasn't directed at publically insulting him). "I just meant…" his gaze turned lower and he couldn't help blushing a little as he remembered yet again that three other people were in the room watching them, "um…never mind."

Helga shrugged her shoulders and put her hands behind her head, trying to maintain her aloof and casual façade. She smiled at her beloved. "You see, Arnold, that's the way our conversations need to keep going—I say something right and you accept it without argument. Simple and easy for us both!" She winked.

Arnold crossed his arms in front of his chest and rolled his eyes, grinning.

She toned her smile down a bit as she turned to the other three students in the room. "That goes for _all_ of you guys, actually—any questions?" she ended with a bit of sarcasm.

There was another moment of silence. Gerald looked from his best friend to his class bully, and then glanced from Lila to Phoebe who was beside him. Finally, he seemed to come to some kind of decision and spoke. "Yeah, I have one…" He was trying to seem confident but a trace of uncertainty could still be detected in his voice.

Helga's eyes widened in surprise at actually getting a response to her obviously rhetorical question. However, before she could shut Gerald up with a quick remark he spoke again. "So, how long has 'this' " he casually pointed from her to Arnold, "been going on, exactly?"

Helga nearly choked on nothing but her own spit and the breath she had been taking at that moment. Arnold blushed, faked a cough, and looked away. Lila just looked on politely but attentively, obviously curious about what the answer might be to this question. Phoebe, however, just seemed confused about the exchange currently taking place between Helga and Gerald. Finally, she spoke up in a timid voice, having a good idea what Gerald's question might be in reference to but seriously doubting whether he could have found access to the proper 'information' to have asked it. "Gerald, I'm afraid I don't…um, that is…"

Gerald addressed Helga. "I know Phoebe wasn't really involved in this…" He put a hand on Phoebe's shoulder, which not only succeeded in silencing the girl but also actually caused a slight blush to come to her cheeks. He continued, not seeing her reaction. "But I figure since she's your best friend and pretty observant anyway," he gave Phoebe (who had luckily managed to get the red tinge of her face under control) a quick smile and then turned back to Helga, "she probably knows about this whole thing, right?"

Phoebe, now with a _very_ concerned expression on her face, turned to her best friend. "Helga, does he mean…"

"Yeah, Phoebe…" Helga sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest, gesturing toward Arnold with her head to confirm her best friend's suspicions. "It's a long story but, yeah…he knows—the whole nine yards…and I already told you about the thing with Lila." Phoebe quickly glanced in Lila's direction, recalling the story Helga had very briefly mentioned to her regarding the school play several months ago.

Helga sighed and then turned back to Gerald, more than a tinge of annoyance in her voice as she recalled some of his comments from their conversation in her room about her capacity to love, as well as his response of blacking out upon hearing her real secret. "And speaking of which—Geraldo, you're new to the club so let me lay down the ground rules for you." She stood up and walked toward him, scowling. "Basically, this entire weekend _never_ happened. You are going to forget _everything_ you saw and heard and you will _never_ bring it up again unless you want me to_ kill_ you. Got it?"

At this point she was right in his face, and Gerald swallowed hard in fear. He took a deep breath though, sighed, and actually started to smile. He shook his head back and forth and replied, "Relax, Helga, I'm not gonna tell anyone about your 'thing' for Arnold…"

Helga blinked in surprise. "Really?" She backed off from him a bit. "Well…okay then! We're…on the same page! Uh, thanks…"

He hesitated for a moment, then continued quickly. "But seriously—is this some recent discovery of yours or is it the 'real deal' because to be honest I'm still having a little trouble accepting that it's all true?"

Helga blushed, a little taken aback by Gerald's continued boldness with her. Phoebe, Lila, and Arnold merely looked on in curiosity at how she would respond to such a direct question. Finally she managed to regain her voice. "Ge…Gerald…this isn't Q and A time about Helga's personal life! You know about…_you_ _know_," she glanced to Arnold and then quickly turned back to Gerald, the red tinge strengthening on her face, "and that's bad enough—I'm not going into _details_ about it!!"

Gerald raised an eyebrow and smiled smugly at her. "That long, huh?"

Helga blushed darker still and turned away from him. "I…I'm NOT talking about this!" She went back to the couch and sat down again, still looking totally thrown by the fact that someone was actually bringing up her love for Arnold like it was some small talk topic.

Gerald smiled to himself. "Now, all that's left to figure out is how exactly all this ties in with the FTi incident and you being Deep Voice…"

Helga's face drained of color just as Arnold's turned scarlet red. Gerald raised an eyebrow at their reactions and continued slowly. "But I guess that's between the two of you…" He couldn't help but grin at the idea of something happening that could not only embarrass _Helga_ who had already admitted to what she considered her most humiliating secret ever, but _Arnold_ who Gerald could only remember having been embarrassed a few times in his life.

At this statement, Arnold and Helga both breathed sighs of relief and turned toward one another, happy that he would not be pursuing the subject of what had happened between them any further. However, upon making eye contact their eyes widened nervously and they turned directly away from each other yet again. Arnold proceeded to glance casually from the floor to the ceiling while Helga took to playing with her hands.

Noticing this additional reaction, Gerald couldn't help but shake his head and add, "Though whatever it was it must have been a _doozy_…"

Helga felt her humiliation rising and growled, the scowl returning to her face. "Okay, Geraldo, thank you for your input—you can _cool_ _it_ now!"

Gerald put up his hands defensively, still smiling. "Alright, alright, easy there, Pataki…" She growled again. "Okay, seriously," he put down his hands and looked at her sincerely, "I'm sorry…to both of you," he gestured to Arnold. "I was just having some fun and now I've got it all out of my system…about how, you know, you love Arnold…" He tried to stifle a small laugh. "We are talking about THIS Arnold, right?" he asked skeptically.

Phoebe and Lila glared at him, and Helga was about to snap at him again but he cut her off, "Kidding, kidding! Just gettin' in one more for the road…"

Helga sighed and rolled her eyes, turning to Arnold. "Gosh, Arnold, where _do_ you get these incredibly witty friends of yours?"

Arnold sighed. "Oh, come on, Helga, he didn't mean anything by it… Actually," Arnold smiled, "considering what I'm guessing you _thought_ would happen if someone like Gerald ever found out everything, I'd say his reaction was pretty tame."

Helga scoffed. "Well, thank you for taking his side, Arnold! And tomorrow after he turns my secret into a full blown urban legend you can stick up for Harold when he follows me around pointing and making kissing noises, and Rhonda when she replaces her weekly gossip column with a full blown heart shaped add that says 'Helga Loves Arnold', and—"

"Oh, come on, Helga," he crossed his arms and looked at her skeptically, "you can't really think that all that stuff would actually happen just because people find out that you have a _crush_!"

She shot up, her teeth gritted. "It is NOT a cr—" She stopped herself before she could complete the sentence, though. '_What am I __doing__?! I'm in a room with a bunch of people, and I'm about to go off about how my love for Arnold burns deeper and brighter than some mere puppy love attraction could ever hope to do?! Do I WANT Arnold to see me as even more of a freak than he already must?!'_

"I…I mean…" she stuttered, "Oh, just forget it, Arnoldo, you wouldn't understand anyway!" She turned away and sat back down, crossing her arms in front of her chest in frustration.

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, Helga, because it's not like I haven't a couple of crushes!"

Helga scoffed and mumbled to herself. " 'A couple?' Please, there's been so many this year alone that I've lost track…"

Unfortunately, she didn't say this last statement quietly enough and Arnold heard her. He blushed. "So, I've like liked a few people! I mean…" He tried to think of a good response and finally managed to come up with something. "I mean, you can't tell me that you've never even _looked_ at anyone else besides…me…"

Helga had been about to give a generic sarcastic response but she suddenly found herself completely at a loss for words. She sat there, a finger raised, mouth agape, eyes wide and facing her beloved, unsure of how to respond. "I…I…"

Phoebe, Lila, and Gerald awaited her response almost as anxiously as Arnold did. Now that he had asked the question, though, Arnold was regretting ever having done so. Not only was he feeling bad for putting Helga in such an awkward position in front of everyone, but he was afraid she was actually going to answer…and that regardless of what that answer was he wasn't going to like it…

Helga looked from Arnold to the other three people in the room and then swallowed hard and put a scowl back on her face, though it was obvious that she was still a little shaken. "Oh…just shut up and leave me alone, Football Head!" And with that she turned away from him and sunk into the couch, crossing her arms in front of her chest with a dark scowl on her face.

"That's a 'no'…" Gerald mumbled to himself, his head resting on one of his hands.

"Gerald!" Phoebe elbowed him, an annoyed expression on her face.

"Ouch!" he rubbed his side.

"You know," Helga turned her attention back to Gerald, who's comment she had managed to overhear, "I appreciate you smoothing things over with my Dad and my sister, but you are REALLY starting to get on my nerves, Johanssen!" She glared at him and ground her right fist into her left palm.

Gerald swallowed hard and closed his mouth.

Arnold sighed. "Helga, there's no need to threaten—"

Helga closed her eyes and looked as though she was torn between two emotions and trying to keep her temper under control. "And Arnold," she said in a very level voice, "It's not that I don't appreciate your input on EVERYTHING but," she whipped around to face him, "I swear if this is another speech about 'Turning the Other Cheek' and 'Being Yourself,' Gerald's not gonna be the only one with a death threat over his head!" She got into his face, staring him down.

However, Arnold didn't back down. In fact, he gave her a little (almost playful) smile and replied as confidently as he could muster, "Oh, come on, Helga, I'm pretty sure you're not going to hurt me…"

Helga's eyes widened at the unexpected response to her threat. Gerald, Phoebe and Lila looked to each other with uncertainty, unsure of what Helga might do next. Suddenly, she growled and stared him right in the eyes, stomping her foot on the ground in frustration. "Oh, you're IMPOSSIBLE, Football Head—you know that?! You are just the most annoying, infuriating…"

Helga's frustration was getting her so worked up that she couldn't even think of another word. Timidly, and almost on instinct, Phoebe came to her aid. "Exasperating?"

"Yes, thank you, Phoebe—EXASPERATING little twerp I've ever met! And so, big deal—so I don't entirely HATE you!" She was gesticulating dramatically. "You think that has ANYTHING to do with me letting you off the hook?! The only reason I've never hit you is because…uh, because it would be a waste of my time! I mean it's not like you'd stand a chance against me or anything…" A smug look appeared on Helga's face as she finally became satisfied that she was starting to turn the tables in this argument.

Gerald shook his head and smirked quietly to himself. "I'm pretty sure being her main squeeze doesn't hurt his chances of being injury free either…"

"Gerald, ENOUGH!!" She turned around and gave him a fiery glare, sick of his side comments!

"Helga, he's just kidding—why do you have to go crazy every time someone says something about how you feel about me?! Who cares what he or anybody else thinks anyway?!"

"Hey?!" Gerald scowled and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Gerald…shh!!" Lila shushed him.

Helga seethed. "I am NOT crazy…" She took a deep breath and spat through gritted teeth. "You are just DENSE and annoying!"

"I am NOT—" Arnold began. Instantly, the two of them commenced a full-blown shouting match much to the entertainment of their three onlookers.

Finally, realizing that this little tiff wasn't about to blow over anytime soon and that it was starting to get late, Gerald stood up and whispered something to Phoebe and Lila who both nodded in nervous agreement.

Suddenly, Phoebe and Lila came up behind Helga and grabbed her by a shoulder each. "Hey, what the—?!"

Gerald did the same to Arnold. "Hey, let me go!!"

"Helga, _please_!" Phoebe was clinging to Helga's arm, trying to stop her struggles against her hold.

"Yes, Helga, I'm—ever so certain—it'll be easier if you just—calm down…" Lila was struggling holding her half of Helga as well.

"Okay, you two," Gerald had a firm grip on his best friend and addressed both Arnold and Helga, "It's not getting any earlier so can we cut the lover's quarrel short?" That statement ended Helga's struggles and brought a small blush to her face in the process. '_Now to get Arnold to stop_,' Gerald thought to himself. He added aloud, "Unless you wanna end it by kissing her again, Arnold?" Arnold now, likewise, stopped trying to free himself and blushed.

Gerald smiled. "That's more like it! Now, we're going to let you two go and there's going to be at least a temporary truce, okay?" There were a few seconds of hesitation on the parts of both parties in question.

Finally, Arnold sighed. "Alright…"

Helga grumbled but finally conceded as well. "Whatever…"

Gerald, Lila, and Phoebe released their friends who, as agreed, stayed in their neutral corners on the couch.

"Okay," Gerald continued, "Now ,it's obvious you two have some 'issues' to work out, and since you can't stop getting either embarrassed or defensive with us around, I think it's about time we all got going and let you guys just talk it out alone once and for all."

"Gerald," Phoebe looked at him with concern, "Are you certain that that's best?" She could still almost touch the tension between her best friend and Arnold.

Gerald was about respond when Lila answered for him. "Phoebe, I'm ever so certain that Gerald may be right about them needing to be alone—besides, it _is_ getting late…"

Arnold sighed to himself. '_Maybe I should just apologize to Helga…_' He opened his mouth but before he could say anything…

Helga sighed, her eyes shut. "Okay, look guys," she opened them and looked at the other three people in the room, "I admit it, alright, I'm being a little…defensive…I guess," she managed to say though it obviously pained her to admit any fault in all of this. A bit of the former acid returned to Helga's voice, though, as she added, "Although I probably wouldn't have to be if _somebody_ would cut the snide remarks!" She glared at Gerald who looked away innocently. She rolled her eyes. "But of course, let's not forget that _90_ _percent_ of the problem IS that Arnold can't leave well enough alone." Arnold scowled a bit at this comment. He didn't say anything though, and let Helga (who's face was visibly softening) go on. "But moving on…I…I'm sorry if I'm a little more on edge than usual… It's just been a complicated few of days…" She paused, then added to herself with a slight smile, "…few weeks…heck, few _years_…" She shook her head, trying to refocus on the situation at hand despite her sudden desire to reminisce about her lifetime of Arnold experiences.

Arnold blinked, surprised by how calm and reasonable she was suddenly being. He seated himself nearer to her, grabbed one of her hands and cleared his throat. "Well…it probably wouldn't have been AS difficult if I hadn't lied to you…and taken so long figure things out…" He smiled sheepishly at this last part.

"True," Helga added smugly, smiling innocently at the slight glare he gave her. "But seriously," she looked to Lila, Phoebe, and Gerald, "you've all helped me out a lot this weekend…" her eyes became downcast and she rubbed the back of her neck, "probably more than I deserved considering some of the stuff I've done to you guys over the years. I mean ,the teasing, the bullying, the bossing around, making fun of Gerald after he got his tonsils out, trying to make Phoebe take a dive so that I could win that quiz game show, setting up that tray full of rancid lunch food to fall on Lila in the cafeteria during her first week of school—"

"Helga!" Arnold elbowed her. As she had been listing some of her more colorful past misdeeds she had taken to looking upwards in thought and counting them on her hands. As a result, she hadn't noticed the looks of increased annoyance spreading among the faces of the three fourth graders before her.

"You know, you aren't really making a good case for yourself…" Arnold whispered in her ear.

Helga cleared her throat. "Uh…but, anyway, I just wanted to say…to all of you again…thanks." She looked up again, sheepishly smiling and hoping that she had not _completely_ angered Lila, Gerald, and Phoebe by bringing up such bad past memories.

Phoebe suddenly walked up to Helga, a scowl on her usually placid face. As she got closer to her best friend, though, the young Asian-American girl couldn't help but smile and give Helga G. Pataki a big hug. "Oh, Helga, as I said before we're all just happy that your situation has improved so much from this afternoon!"

Helga smiled, happy that she seemed to be forgiven. "Yikes, Phoebe, who said you could get all clingy on me!?" She playfully tried to break from the hug.

Phoebe, still smiling, let her loose. "Right, sorry—unclinging!"

Lila approached as well, "Well, Helga, despite your past deeds," suddenly her frown turned into a smile as well, "I must say that I'm ever so certain that I'm just happy that you're happy again as well."

"Yeah well…I couldn't have really done it without you working Olga for me..." Helga gave Lila a playful punch in the arm.

She winced in pain and rubbed the spot but still smiled nonetheless. "Um…you're ever so welcome, Helga." Lila seemed on the verge of adding something else but was obviously hesitant to do it. Helga raised an eyebrow at this strange behavior.

Suddenly, though, Gerald spoke up, his scowl changing into simply a neutral face. "Well, I guess we'd better be leaving then…" He headed for the door with Phoebe and Lila in his wake.

Helga walked forward to see them out. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys later then… And really…I owe you one."

Phoebe smiled and even Gerald couldn't help but give his class bully a small half grin. Lila, however, still looked nervous…like she had something to say.

"Uh, you okay, Lila?" Helga raised an eyebrow.

Lila smiled and then cleared her throat. "Well, yes…I mean…Oh, Helga, I tried ever so hard to come up with simple lie…uh, excuses for what was going on when we were back at your house. But there were a few things that I had to tell Olga to make certain that she would leave us alone…"

"_Like_?" Helga asked impatiently.

Lila looked away, a worried expression on her face. "Like, something we may have to do tonight…"

Helga winced. "I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

Lila tried to smile supportively. "Well, I'm oh too certain it could be lots of fun if you just have a positive attitude!"

Helga rolled her eyes. "Okay, let's hear it!"

"Well, I promised her that we would have a sleepover tonight and do makeovers and watch some of our favorite romantic movies… Oh and I might have mentioned an imaginary friend of yours so perhaps you could pretend to bring one to the party just so Olga's completely satisfied with our story!" Lila's hopeful smile had been growing bigger and wider during this little revelation just as Helga's face had been paling and falling. As a result, the redheaded ten-year-old now stood there with a touch of fear in her face about what Helga's reaction might be.

Phoebe eyed her best friend to make sure she wouldn't lose her temper again while Arnold tried to stifle a grin and Gerald laughed out loud, falling on the floor in fits of giggles. "I _knew_ there was karma somewhere in this world for all the stuff she's put us through over the years!"

Helga glared at him and then turned back to Lila with an angry scowl, a finger raised and her mouth open as though preparing to yell at the girl. Suddenly, though, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, saying calmly, "Alright…I'm _not_ going to get angry…"

Lila hesitantly began to uncringe. "Really?"

Helga smiled, though suspiciously…and in a voice far nicer than the one she usually used, she addressed Lila. "Of course not, Lila…I'm 'ever so' certain that tonight will be 'just oodles' of fun!"

Lila smiled pleasantly. "Well, gosh, Helga, I'm oh too certain that you're right—That's the spirit!"

"Besides," the blonde continued, resuming her normal, slightly gruff voice, "At least now I know that this weekend cannot _possibly_ get any worse than what you just described, so there are no more surprises."

"Wonderful, Helga!" Lila approached the door. "I'm going to go home for a little while just to let my Dad know what's going on and to finish the last of my homework. Oh, and speaking of which—Arnold?"

Arnold turned to Lila.

"I'm ever so sure that in all of the day's excitement I forgot to get that science textbook I loaned to you."

"Oh sure, Lila." Arnold smiled and led Lila over to his desk.

Helga's face lost its scowl as she noticed that it was just herself, Gerald, and Phoebe standing together now. She addressed her best friend. "Hey Pheebs, I think I saw Stinky and Sid shove some paper plates under Arnold's bed—Hmph, bunch of lazy geeks—Anyway, would you mind checking just to make sure that we got them?"

Phoebe smiled and looked from Gerald to her best friend, recognizing that Helga seemed to want to talk to him alone. "Checking!"

There were a few seconds of awkward silence as Gerald and Helga stood by themselves. Finally, with a sigh and a swallow Helga addressed him. "So, uh, listen…Gerald…" She rubbed the back of her neck and it took everything for her to keep looking him in the eye.

"Wow, my actual first name—this MUST be big." He smiled jokingly and crossed his hands over his chest.

"Yeah, well…I was just wondering, um…why you did all that stuff back, you know, at my house…with my dad and everything…" She started occasionally glancing at the floor. "I mean, not that I didn't seriously appreciate it and all…I was just wondering…why?" She raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity.

Gerald cleared his throat. "Look…Helga—"

"Wow, my actual first name—no 'Pataki' I mean—this must be big." She smiled smugly.

Gerald sighed and smiled. "Yeah, well, it's been a 'big' weekend. Anyway, I know you and I have never really gotten along well…"

"No argument here…" Helga scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest as well.

"But," Gerald continued, "Arnold seems to see something good in you…something great, actually, from the earful of stuff I've been getting from him about you lately…"

He made a gesture like cleaning out one of his ears and Helga couldn't help but widen her eyes and blush at this information. Her arms fell to her sides. "Arnold said _what_?"

Gerald raised an eyebrow, surprised at her obviously flattered reaction.

Helga shook her head and quickly regained herself. "I mean, not that I really _care_ all that much or anything—typical Football Head, always obsessing over other people…" Despite her attempt to seem annoyed at this trait, though, Gerald detected a small smile on her face as she glanced in the blonde fourth grader's direction.

Gerald couldn't help but smile. '_Mmm mmm mmm…'_ He cleared his throat. "Well, anyway, he's the best judge of character I know, so between him vouching for you and you standing up to your Dad for him like that…By the way, very impressive—he's kind of scary, you know."

Helga rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Ah, he's just a big blowhard when you get right down to it—all talk and no action!"

Gerald smiled and continued. "Yeah, well, I just figure that despite all the stuff that's happened over the years, maybe it is even _remotely_ possible that you're really just a decent person looking for a chance…and that you could, you know, CARE about someone…" He could feel himself blushing at the mention of the awkward topic.

Helga smiled with a sigh and rolled her eyes. "Okay, Gerald, I get it—it's really _awkward_ that I have _feelings_…" Suddenly, the two fourth graders found themselves sharing a small laugh about the joke. Helga raised an eyebrow at Gerald. "You know, you're not half bad Johanssen." She gave him a playful punch in the shoulder.

He smiled, trying not to wince at how hard she had jabbed him. "Same to you, Pataki."

There was a moment of silence, and then Helga extended one of her hands for him to shake.

Gerald hesitated, began to extend his arm as well, then paused, eyeing her suspiciously as he recalled their last attempt at a peaceful handshake back at her room not too long ago.

Recognizing his hesitation, Helga rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on Geraldo… 'truce?' "

Gerald raised an eyebrow. "For real, this time?"

Helga shrugged. "Well, for _now, _at least… If you annoy me in public or anything though in the future there're no guarantees." She winked. "But NO MORE cheap shots!" Her look became a little sterner.

Gerald reached forward and smiled. "Okay…" But, much to Helga's surprise, rather than shaking with her he made a fist with his thumb up and pushed it against her hand. She looked at him in confusion for a second. He smiled. "Well…?"

She continued to look perplexed.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Helga, if you know anything about Arnold you should know what our secret handshake looks like!"

Helga blinked. "You're kidding?!"

Gerald shrugged. "Hey, if you don't want to, that's fine with—"

"No! I mean…" Instantly she did the action with Gerald as though she had been practicing it her entire life.

Gerald's eyes widened in surprise. "Hmm…I don't know if I should be _impressed_ that you knew how to do that so well or really _creeped_ _out_ that you've been watching us closely enough to know how to do that so well."

Helga cleared her throat, blushed, and ignored the statement. "Uh yeah…So, uh, any particular reason that you just included an outsider in your 'sacred ritual?' "

Gerald placed a hand on Helga's shoulder. "Consider it an initiation, Helga, because honestly…" he glanced over at Arnold across the room who had been sneaking glances at what Helga and his best friend were doing but now turned away as he saw Gerald looking over, "I have a feeling we're gonna be dealing with each other a lot more often… At least, if I know Arnold…"

Helga was getting more and more confused by his actions and was about to ask Gerald a question when he suddenly changed the subject. "Can you just guarantee me one thing, though?"

Helga couldn't help a bit of a suspicious scowl coming to her face. "What?"

He rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands and looked a little sheepish. "Just promise me I don't have to meet up with your Dad anymore—he's a little scary, especially when it comes to protecting you!"

Helga's face relaxed. She found the idea intriguing. '_Hmmm…my Dad, protecting me…? Interesting way to look at what happened back there...'_ She smiled, trying to stifle a chuckle. "Deal."

There was silence as both ten-year-olds stood there concluding their conversation. Gerald smiled. "So…we're cool, right?"

Helga was about to answer in the affirmative but then stopped and looked back over her shoulder quickly. Suddenly, a mischievous smile came to her face that made Gerald pale slightly. "Yeah…in fact…"

Helga turned around and called across the room. "Hey, Phoebe!" She looked back to Gerald who raised an eyebrow at her as Phoebe approached. "Gerald's ready to take you home now."

Suddenly, both Gerald and Phoebe blushed. "What?!" They asked in unison.

Helga shrugged. "Well, you're both leaving now, right? Besides, you two live in the same direction and like you said, Geraldo, Arnold and I should probably have a 'talk' or something so I guess I'm gonna be here for a while." Helga glanced back at Arnold quickly and then turned back to her best friend and Gerald. "So, get going!" Helga winked and pushed them both toward the door.

Shoved together, Phoebe and Gerald couldn't help but blush further. Gerald cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if you're going my way…" He smiled.

Phoebe smiled back warmly. "Certainly, Gerald. I'd love too…"

Gerald opened the door and motioned to the ladder. "Ladies first."

Phoebe smiled again and descended. Before joining her, though, Gerald turned back to Helga, trying to hide the remainder of the blush on his face. "Uh…"

Helga smiled. "Please, Geraldo, our whole class might be completely _blind_ when it comes to the romantic subtleties of its members, but you're looking at an expert here."

Gerald blinked, surprised by the statement.

Helga continued. "Oh, and, uh, for future reference, if you wanna keep your crush on my best friend a secret make sure you're not being watched every time you glance at her and smile…for the past _year_ _and_ _a half!"_ Helga got closer to him and whispered, "And pulling her onto the bed before? Nice save for Football Head's little slip-up but a little bold considering you did it in front of half the fourth grade, if I might say so."

Gerald just shook his head in amazement, glanced back in the direction Phoebe had gone, and then turned back to Helga. "You know Helga…I think this newfound friendship is actually gonna work out…"

Helga smiled and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "As long as I don't walk into school tomorrow to the sound of kids chanting 'Helga and Arnold sitting in a Tree', I think so too."

"No problem… Trust me, they wouldn't believe me even if I told them…"

Helga and Gerald shared a small laugh again, but then Helga looked at him with a deadly scowl on her face. "But seriously—_not a word_!"

"Right, right!" Gerald swallowed hard and put up his hands almost defensively.

Helga smiled to herself. '_Yup, I've still got it…'_

Suddenly, Arnold and Lila returned. Arnold looked to Gerald. "Hey, where's Phoebe?"

"Oh uh…she's downstairs…" Gerald relaxed a little as he turned from Helga to his best friend. "I'm walking her home."

They did their secret handshake and Arnold smiled. "Well, guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Wait a minute!" The three fourth graders turned with perplexed looks to Helga, who had just spoken up. "No one's going anywhere until I say one last thing." The three fourth graders now looked to each other for answers as to what Helga was talking about, but all each of them was met with were raised eyebrows and shoulder shrugs similar to their own.

Suddenly Helga put one arm on Gerald's should and one arm on Arnold's and spoke. "I, Helga G. Pataki, being of sound mind and body, officially give you, Arnold," she glanced at Arnold, "permission to talk to Gerald about anything that might involve me and this whole secret thing if at anytime you are feeling frustrated, confused, or just plain wanna vent!"

Helga removed her hands from each boy's shoulder and crossed her arms in front of her chest, smiling to herself. She turned to Arnold, smiling. "There, Football Head, now you have someone to talk to and you can do so entirely guilt-free and completely with my blessing! Have a blast!" She winked at him and walked over to the wall near the doorway, leaning against it.

"Whoa, really? She's serious, man?" Gerald looked from Arnold to Helga.

"Helga, are you sure—" Arnold started.

Helga cut him off. "Arnold, just take the freebie and don't ask questions, okay?"

Gerald couldn't help but smirk and say to himself, half-kidding, half-serious, "Good, maybe now I can finally find out what the heck happened on the top of that building…"

Helga turned to him. "Sure, why not—that is, if _Arnold's_ okay with you knowing, too… It's his call now, after all." Helga glanced at Arnold and gave him a wink, knowing full well that he had just as much to be embarrassed about with the confession and the kiss as she had. '_Good—this way Arnold's finally got someone to talk to about his feelings without having to go through a moral dilemma, but most of the stuff that I find really embarrassing will still stay between us since he has just as much of a stake in it as I do. Besides, Gerald really does seem like he'll be cool with keeping this whole thing under wraps regardless of what Arnold lets slip.'_

Gerald looked to Arnold, an obvious note of anticipation in his voice. "Well?"

Arnold looked from Helga to Gerald and felt himself blushing and his throat drying up a bit. "Um…maybe some other time, Gerald… But, thanks, though, Helga." His gaze moved back to her.

Helga shrugged her shoulders, happy that her plan seemed to be working. "No problem." She turned to Gerald. "Well, you better finally get going, Hair Boy—Phoebe's waiting!"

Gerald blushed. "Uh, yeah…well, bye again, everyone."

"Goodbye, Gerald." Lila waved.

"Bye, Gerald." Arnold waved as well.

"See ya, man…See ya, Lila." Gerald went down the first few steps of the ladder, then paused and turned to Helga. "And hey, uh, for future reference, Helga…the thing I said back in your room about…you know…" he nodded to his friend, "Think about it…"

Helga looked at him curiously as he descended the ladder, shaking his head. "See ya, Pataki…Mmm, mmm—some pieces of work…"

Helga seemed to be in thought for a moment but then she suddenly blushed furiously. Arnold and Lila eyed her curiously.

"Uh, yeah, see ya, Hair Bo—uh, Gerald…" She called back in a distracted voice.

The door shut, leaving Arnold, Lila, and Helga alone in the room. Lila looked at her two friends and sighed. "Well, I'm oh too certain that I should be getting along as well. I'll see you tonight, Helga!"

"Yeah, yeah, unfortunately…" Helga grumbled, turning away, though a small smug smile came to her face that made Arnold a little nervous.

Lila smiled and approached the door. "I'll see you later then, Helga. Oh, and, Arnold?" She addressed the football headed blonde.

"Yes?"

"I'm not sure what Gerald was referring to before but, speaking of things for future reference, please remember that question I asked you back in Helga's bathroom… You never answered me, you know." She winked and Arnold gave her a curious look. It only took a moment, though, for a furious blush to come to his face just as it had done to Helga's before.

"Goodbye!" Lila smiled and quickly descended the ladder shutting the door behind her, leaving Arnold and Helga finally very much alone.

Silence, then Helga sighed and turned to Arnold. "You wanna tell me what that's about?"

Arnold shook his head. "You…uh…want to tell me what Gerald was talking about?"

Helga shook her own head and scoffed. "No!"

"Okay, then!" Arnold smiled. Silence again.

Finally, Helga spoke up. "Well, I guess it's finally time for me to say 'I'll see ya when I see ya,' Arnoldo! It's been a real slice—don't get me wrong—"

"Wait, you mean…you're leaving?"

Helga sighed in exasperation. "Arnold, we already went over this—tutoring done, dinner eaten, room clean, now time for 'home and bed.' " She crossed her arms in front of her chest and scowled. "Of course, I have to fit in the sleepover from _heck_ sometime tonight thanks to the torture that always results from _my_ sister talking to _your_ ex-girlfriend!"

Arnold's cheeks reddened slightly at the mention of his former near-relationship with Lila, but he tried not to show it. "You didn't seem too unhappy when you were talking to Lila about it before?"

A sly look came to Helga's eyes. "Well, Lila _did_ say that we would get to do each other's makeup and watch our favorite movies…I just figure I'll add my own flair to the festivities: I'm thinking a little purple hair dye for Olga, some onyx black gothic makeup for Lila, and quick trip to the video store for the recently released straight to DVD classic: Evil Twin 4: Brides of the Twins. That should liven up the party!" A satisfied smile appeared on her face, and she rubbed her hands together evilly. "And the best part is, I can just blame everything on the 'imaginary friend' Lila told me to cook up for tonight—Olga'll never 'shatter the precious psyche of my still developing child mind' by saying it was actually me! It's perfect!" Helga began to laugh.

Arnold was trying to keep a serious face, and knew he should try to convince her that the right thing to do would be to try to legitimately enjoy the time with her sister and to maybe even try to get to know Lila a little better in the process. Suddenly, though, he felt himself break and before he knew it he was laughing as well.

Helga stopped her chuckling and raised an eyebrow at his reaction. "What? No lecture about the potentially bad consequences that could come from me actually doing this? No advice that I should give Olga and Lila a fair chance? Not even a shake of that wide head of yours about the general sneakiness and deception involved in what I've got planned for tonight? Sheesh, I really AM rubbing off on you, Football Head."

Arnold managed to get his reaction under control and looked at her. "Well, I guess I don't have to say any of that since you seem to know it already… Maybe we're rubbing off on _each_ _other_…"

Helga couldn't help the sincere smile that came to her face at the thought of the existence of genuine similarities between them.

"Anyway," Arnold continued, glancing downward, "I guess I've just been getting used to your sense of humor… You know, since we've been spending so much time together …"

"Yeah…" Helga averted her eyes to the floor, still smiling thoughtfully. Arnold looked at her with a half lidded gaze.

There was a few seconds of silence between the two of them. Finally, Arnold took a deep breath and spoke up. "Hey, Helga…"

She raised an eyebrow. "Uh…yeah?"

He rubbed his right arm with his left hand. "I know it's late and that you've got a full night ahead of you and everything but, you know, we never got to finish listening to music this morning… Maybe I could play some more songs for us?"

Though her face remained fairly neutral Helga's eyes seemed to glow at the idea. "Really?"

"Sure." Arnold smiled brightly and went over to his couch's end table to grab his remote.

As he did this, Helga's thoughts raced. _'Gerald's crazy…he's __gotta__ be crazy…'_ Still, what he had said in her room that afternoon kept popping into her mind: ' '_There's only one explanation…my man Arnold is in love with you!_' ' Helga entertained the idea for a moment longer but then let it fall away again. '_I just never give up, do I?'_

"Do you want to finish the Dino Spumoni record, or just listen to the radio for a while?" he asked Helga, who had slumped onto his couch.

Helga yawned. "Radio's fine by me—I liked the Dino Spumoni stuff but I could use a change of pace right now."

Arnold smiled and began to press some buttons. "Here, let's try this station!"

A DJ's voice filled the room. "You're listening to K-JAZ, smooth sounds for the happening hounds of Hillwood. It's six o'clock on the last night of another groovin' late spring weekend and you fans all know what that means—time for the 'Late Date Hour.' We'll be heading off our play list tonight for all young lovers with the classic romantic hit Do You Love me Like I Love You? And here we go—"

Arnold fumbled the remote so badly that it nearly fell out his hands. His face was practically scarlet and he was absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Helga who merely looked on in surprised amusement at his reaction to the ironic choice of radio station.

"Uh…" he tugged at his collar, "Maybe we could try this one!" He switched to another station.

"Hey, you're listening to K-POP, the latest hits for all you cool kids! And now we've had a request for the newest single from super singing sensation Ronnie Matthews, I Love You, Now What's You're Answer?!"

Arnold's face was flaming and he was actually starting to sweat. "Uh, n-next?!" He tried to press a button but his hands were so slick with perspiration that the remote fell onto the floor.

Helga rolled her eyes at Arnold's little performance that was going on in front of her. '_Wow, I'm used to cruel irony, but this is pretty out there…Maybe I should just stop him before he hurts himself…_'

Arnold grabbed the remote off the floor (but not before bumping his head on the end table as he was getting up) and finally managed to change the station. "—and that was the classic rock hit More Than Friends—" a DJ's voice announced

'_Hmmm…not as bad as it could have been for him, I guess…'_ said Helga to herself. Even Arnold, though again a little embarrassed, did not seem nearly as flustered as he had after the last two attempts at finding some music.

The voice on the radio continued. "And now, since it's six o'clock, we'll switch over to our talk hour—and tonight's topic is couples who've been together since they were kids! Call in with your touching stories about childhood love!"

Arnold looked like he had just had the rug pulled out from under him. He was quickly trying to regain himself and press another button, but Helga was finally sick of all this back and forth. She growled, scowled, and stood up ripping the remote from his hand. "Oh just give me that, Arnold!" She turned off the whole stereo system leaving them in silence.

"And sit down before you hurt yourself!" She gave him a small tap into the couch and sat back down next to him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "Um…I was just trying to…I mean...heh heh…" He looked at her and smiled sheepishly. "Pretty funny how all the songs were, uh…"

She rolled her eyes and grinned. "Oh, give me a break, Arnoldo…Trust me—now that you know about…well, _you know_…stuff like this is gonna happen to you _all the time_." She put her arm around his shoulder and pointed the index finger of her other arm at his face. "You are now irony's best friend!"

Arnold couldn't help but continue blushing, but after a few seconds he suddenly felt himself starting to relax. He even started to chuckle a little, further relieving his nerves, and Helga joined in with him. "You'll get used to it after a while…" She stopped laughing and smiled and he smiled back at her.

Suddenly, they both became very aware that they were not only sitting very close to each other and looking into each other's eyes, but that Helga's arm was still around Arnold. They quickly pulled away, blushing slightly and averting their gazes. Helga swallowed hard. "For the most part…" she added.

Arnold took a deep breath and finally looked back at Helga. "Well, we could always go back to the Dino Spumoni record…I think there may have been a couple songs on the other side that we didn't listen to yet…" He picked it up off the floor and read to himself the names of the few tracks they had yet to listen to. "Let's see…"

Helga watched him scan the album cover. Suddenly, he sighed, slumped down on the couch, and closed his eyes, the album in his lap.

Helga grabbed it and gave it a once over. "Don't Know How to Tell You I Love You, Confessions of the Heart, and here's a doozy, Love, Love, Love, a Crazy World of Love_._ " She tossed it back on the floor. "Arnold, I think you'd better throw in the towel while you're ahead…"

She stood up and headed toward the door like she was about to go. Noticing this action, Arnold stood up as well and decided to try a different approach to make her stay. "Well maybe…maybe we could try again some other time…like after school tomorrow? You could bring by some of your rock CD's and I could get out some of my favorite jazz albums…" He seemed to hold his breath as he awaited a response.

Helga turned to look at him. "I…I…" She seemed to be struggling with something and then her eyes lost their hopeful look again and became almost…skeptical? No, that wasn't it—more like curious or concerned. She took a deep breath. "Arnold, before I answer that question, can I ask you something?"

Arnold blinked in surprise. "Sure Helga…"

She opened her mouth. "Why—"

Suddenly, there was a loud lyrical knock on Arnold's door and Olga pranced in. "Baby Sister! Are you almost done in here—I think we should get home and start the party!"

Helga nearly jumped out of her skin! She turned around in surprise at the unexpected entrance of her sister, gave a small scream, and suddenly jumped into Arnold's arms, clinging to him in shock and breathing heavily. Finally, she managed to calm herself enough to summon her anger. "Olga, I will be downstairs in a _minute_—please just leave me ALONE!"

"Oh…" Olga looked from her sister to Arnold and then smiled as though she knew a secret.

Helga looked from her sister's sly smile to her position with Arnold and instantly jumped back from him, scowling with her arms crossed over her chest.

Olga giggled. "Okay, Baby Sister!" She winked dramatically, causing Helga to roll her eyes and sigh in exasperation. She no longer had the stamina to act embarrassed this weekend; just annoyed. Olga continued. "But not _too_ long up here, okay?"

"Yes, Olga—whatever makes you happy!"

"I'll be waiting in the car, Helga! And, Arnold," she turned to him, "It was very nice to meet your family… Don't keep my baby sister too long!" She winked again and then descended the ladder.

Helga let out a frustrated sigh as she left. "That's it, forget the purple hair dye! Let's try a honey and peanut butter scalp treatment and a shaving cream facial while she's sleeping! Hmph," she grinned, "That should make for some interesting morning entertainment…"

"Helga!" Arnold crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket, Arnoldo!" She closed her eyes and waved him off.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine, figure it out the hard way…"

"Maybe I will!" She yelled back not really thinking about what she was saying.

Arnold tried to stifle a smirk, and the scowl briefly left Helga's eyes as she realized what she had just said. "I mean…oh, you know what I mean!"

There was a moment of silence as Arnold tried to maintain his stern gaze and Helga tried to keep up her scowl. Suddenly, though, both fourth graders could no longer contain their growing smiles and instantly found themselves laughing heartily together, practically in tears.

After a few moments, they both managed to calm down. Arnold considered for a moment and then spoke up, still wanting an answer to his question from before. "So…you'll definitely come by tomorrow night, then?" He smiled at Helga.

Helga's laughter subsided and she recalled the exchange that had been taking place between herself and Arnold before Olga's interruption. She cleared her throat and put her hands behind her back. "Yeah, um…Arnold…this is probably gonna sound a little weird…I mean, then again there's been a lot of weird stuff between us lately, but…here it goes." She looked at him nervously. "Why do you want to hang out with me?"

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

Helga sighed. "I mean, it's not that I don't want to…" She blushed and tried to phrase the question in a different way. "It's just…what is it that you want to get out of us spending time together…exactly?" She waited nervously for his reply.

Arnold was trying to process what she was getting at. Suddenly, he seemed to understand the purpose of her question. He gave her a friendly smile and shook his head. "Helga, you know you really _don't_ give yourself enough credit..."

Suddenly, his gaze became half-lidded and he moved a bit closer to her. Helga felt her knees ready to buckle and her stomach was quaking with butterflies—she had never been able to handle that look. That was why she had made sure to get a picture of Arnold looking like that in her locket—he was just so beautiful that way.

Helga tried to speak, anything to distract herself from the quickened beating from her heart. "Wh…uh, what do you mean?" She gave a weak grin.

He got even closer to her, his gaze still just as inviting. "It's just…" he glanced downward for a moment in thought and then looked back up, "you always act so confident around everyone but really you're always questioning yourself… But you really are a wonderful person, Helga…"

Helga backed up again and suddenly found herself right against Arnold's closet door. "Um…th—thanks…" She couldn't think of anything else to say. '_Could he be…is he trying to say that maybe…_' Gerald's words echoed again in her head, ' '_There's only one explanation… my man Arnold is in love with you!_' ', ' '_I've been getting an earful of stuff from him about you lately…_' ' Lila's voice from the kitchen that afternoon suddenly entered her head as well, ' '_Arnold said you were an ever so interesting and worthwhile person…and a very good writer as well…_' ' Helga felt her palms beginning to sweat and recalled their kiss from earlier. _'Maybe…maybe he actually does…'_

Arnold gave a small chuckle as he noticed her nervous and unsure reaction, and moved closer to her yet again. "Helga, why do you think it's so weird that someone would want to be—"

She held her breath.

"—your friend?"

Helga felt like her heart had just dropped out of her chest and fallen through the floor. '_The F word._' "E—excuse me?" was the only thing she could think of to say.

Arnold's warm gaze suddenly changed to a look of concern as he saw the change in the emotion being expressed in Helga's eyes. She had seemed hopeful and almost happy: now, suddenly, she just seemed…sad.

"Helga, are you—"

"OW!"

"OW!"

"Uh…ow!"

Suddenly, both Helga and Arnold found themselves in a pile on the floor with a third person lying among them.

Helga was the first one to sit up. She rubbed her head, her eyes shut in pain. "Crimeny! What the—" She opened her eyes only to see a very familiar face VERY close to hers…

"Uh…hi…" He gave a small wave.

"BRAINY!!" both Helga and Arnold yelled in unison.

Helga instantly pushed him off of herself and stood up. Brainy rose as well, brushing himself off. "Uh…yeah…"

Arnold got up and looked back and forth from Helga to Brainy. Before he could ask the wheezing kid where he had come from and what he was doing there, though, Helga suddenly exploded. "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU _DOING_ HERE, BRAINY?! Seriously, you pop up every time I talk ABOUT Arnold, now are you gonna start showing up every time I talk TO him too?! How the heck long have you been in that closet anyway?! For Pete's sake, Brainy, I—"

Arnold grabbed her shoulders. "Helga, calm down—why don't we just ask Brainy what—"

She cut him off, removing his hands, fury having briefly taken the place of all of her pain. "Look, Arnold—I get that you've finally figured out that 'if Arnold touches Helga, Helga gets all soft for a few minutes,' but can you stop playing with your newfound discovery and just let me express the fact that I'm a little ticked off?!"

Arnold blushed furiously, not realizing that she had been aware of his strategy of calming her down for the past two days. "I didn't…I—I mean…" Suddenly, he realized what she had been saying before, and his flustered feelings were instantly replaced by ones of curiosity "Wait, what do you mean 'talking ABOUT Arnold?' "

Helga froze, realizing what she had just let slip. However, she tried to cover it up with even more anger. "Th—That's not the point?!" She turned back to Brainy. "Brainy, what's your deal?!"

"Uh…" Brainy seemed hesitant and almost…nervous?

"Helga, just cut him a break!" Arnold scolded her.

"Oh, why should I, Football Head?!"

He cleared his throat and said matter-of-factly. "Well…he _did_ keep everyone around long enough to realize why they should apologize to you, before… Maybe you could give him the same chance?"

Helga turned around to him, looking surprised. "Wait, what?"

"Before they all started really believing what I was saying about you, and before Phoebe convinced them all not to leave, Brainy made everyone stay."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, how could _Brainy_ do _that_? I mean, what did he do—_wheeze_ everyone to death or something?"

"Actually," Arnold continued, "he hit Harold?"

Helga's mouth dropped completely open in disbelief. "No!"

"Yeah—who knew that Brainy knew how to throw a punch? I wonder where he picked that up from, anyway?" Arnold said with genuine curiosity.

Helga blushed furiously, but tried to look innocent. "Uh, I…I wouldn't…uh…so, Brainy!" She turned back to Brainy, trying to avoid Arnold's suspicious gaze at her stuttering. "Spill—what's up?"

Brainy took a few wheezy breaths. "Uh…I…"

"And DON'T say 'I DON'T KNOW!' " A bit of her crossness returned.

Brainy blushed slightly. "Wanted to see…you're okay…"

Helga blinked, a little surprised by his concern. "Uh, yeah, sure, Brainy…I'm fine… Thanks. And uh, thanks for your help and everything, by the way… Anything else?"

"Uh…you're a good…poet…" Brainy began blushing.

Helga scowled, instinctively waiting for an insult…but none came. Suddenly, to Helga's complete shock Brainy gave her a quick strong hug, looked back and forth from her to Arnold and, with a few quicker than usual breathes, ran out of Arnold's room and down his ladder, slamming the door behind him.

There was about a half a minute of stunned silence between the two fourth grade blondes. Finally, Helga spoke. "What the HECK was that about?" She scratched her head in perplexity.

"I just can't believe he managed to stay quiet in there for a whole half an hour?" Arnold crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised an eyebrow.

Helga crossed her arms as well and couldn't help but mumble to herself. "Please—try a _whole_ _night_!"

"Huh?" He turned to her, not having quite caught what she had said.

Helga rolled her eyes and said innocently. "Oh, never mind…"

Arnold shrugged his shoulders. He was quiet for another moment, and then suddenly an idea occurred to him and he couldn't stop a small chuckle from escaping his mouth.

"What now Football Head?"

Arnold tried to control his smile. "You don't think that…that he _likes_ you...do you?"

Helga rolled her eyes again. "Of course, he _likes_ me—he's always following me around! I mean, sheesh, besides Phoebe and maybe you he's the only semi-friend I've ever really had…"

"No, I mean," Arnold couldn't help averting his eyes downward, "_likes_ you-likes you?"

Helga scoffed, completely unbelieving the claim he had just made. "You're kidding?!"

"Well, I mean, standing up for you, hugging you, and what did you say about him following you around?" Arnold crossed his arms and looked at her smugly.

"Jealous?" Helga wasn't about to be backed into a corner without giving her opponent a little razzing of his own.

The smugness fell from Arnold's face and he swallowed hard. "No! I—I just meant…considering everything he's done for you this weekend…"

"Oh, don't get all worked up again, Arnoldo, I was just kidding!" Helga tried to laugh it off but secretly she hadn't been able to help giving one more test to the idea that Arnold might have feelings for her.

Arnold couldn't help but smile, and he felt himself loosen up a bit—he liked Helga when she was using her attitude to just have fun with people as opposed to bullying. "I still say he likes you-likes you."

Helga flopped down on Arnold's couch and sighed. "Well, I tell ya, if that's true, Football Head, then I am just about as dense as..." she smirked, "well, _you_."

Arnold gave her a look but Helga wasn't paying attention. "Eh, I'll talk to him later and see what's up…" She sighed and stood. "Oh well, first I've got to take care of Olga and Lila—_then_ I'll worry about Brainy!"

She walked towards Arnold's door and had her fingers around the knob when suddenly Arnold called out, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then, I guess!"

"Yup, see you in class, Football Head!" She gave him a quick wave and twisted the door handle.

"And after?"

She sighed and turned back to him one last time. "Arnold…there's something I don't think you understand… You see—"

Suddenly, a loud crash caused both kids to look to Arnold's skylight roof, and they watched in amazement as Thaddeus Curly Gamelthorpe trampled over the transparent ceiling with the whole random assortment of Boarding House animals (including Abner) following in his wake. Some of Arnold's glass panels cracked and one or two even broke as the stampede progressed.

"Curly?" Arnold and Helga puzzled in unison.

Suddenly, what he was doing (destroying half of Arnold's ceiling) and what he had done (been about the millionth person that day to interrupt Helga when she was trying to have a serious conversation with Arnold) sunk into their heads. "CURLY!!!"

Curly merely laughed maniacally and announced to the heavens, "YES, I'VE FINALLY FREED THE ANIMALS!! COME, COME MY MINIONS, LET US AWAY TO MY BELOVED RHONDA'S HOUSE AND YOU CAN CARRY US ON YOUR BACKS TO FREEDOM!! WHAA HA HA HA HA HA!!!" And with that he lead them all down Arnold's fire escape and off into the city streets.

"Where did HE come from?! And WHAT'S he doing on my roof with all the pets?!" Arnold groaned to himself. '_Maybe I shouldn't ask…'_

Suddenly, though, Helga answered the question for him. "Probably went through the vents and ended up in your kitchen. It's dinner time, the animals were eating…how the heck he got them to the ceiling, though, I couldn't figure out for the life of me…" Completely amazed by what she was witnessing, Helga wasn't even thinking as she spoke…like about how Arnold might be curious as to why she had an in depth knowledge of the inner workings of his home ventilation system?

Arnold just raised an eyebrow at her when she was done and shook his head. Since they were alone he was about to ask her once and for all how it was she knew about not only the vents but the window from before, when suddenly she spoke up again. " Well, I guess that's it then—" She turned her attention away from the ceiling and back to Arnold. "I'm leaving. The randomness and insanity of this weekend is just getting out of control, and I'm going to end it now before Wolfgang flies out from under your bed or Wartz pops in with a plate of cookies." She made a direct beeline toward the door.

"Wait, Helga…" Arnold walked after her.

Helga just shook her head with an exasperated grin. "And to answer your question again, Arnold, I think we better just forget about tomorrow afternoon…"

Arnold's eyes widened at this statement and suddenly he found himself grabbing her arm and pulling her back in desperation.

Now, it was one thing for Arnold to just touch Helga to get his way, but it was another thing for him to put force into it. Scowling, Helga pulled forward to release her arm but suddenly found herself wide-eyed and facing Arnold, their bodies pulled together. Without thinking, he had twisted her around as he had done when they had been doing the tango only a few weeks ago at the April Fool's Dance, and now he had one arm pulling one of hers straight out and the other leading around her waist.

'_What the…what is he…_' Helga could feel herself losing it being so close to her beloved; their bodies pressed against each other yet again. Suddenly, though, she took a deep breath. '_That's it—I'm through with becoming putty in his hands every time I'm near him. He wants to take this to a physical level? Fine—Helga G. Pataki is more than game!_'

Scowling and with a very satisfied smirk, Helga used her free hand to grab the arm of Arnold's that was around her waist. With a quick movement, she twisted him tight against her body and then whipped him out and into his couch—the same move he had used to drop her into the pool at the Dance!

Finding himself on the other end of his own trick, Arnold was utterly flabbergasted. But somehow, rather than being entirely angry or surprised or even just frustrated, he found himself faced with a mixture of these emotions plus something else… An excitement he had only felt once or twice before…

"Goodbye, Arnold, and remember sometimes I can surprise you!" She winked and went toward the door.

'_Where have I…'_ Suddenly, he recalled Mr. Simmons' words from Friday afternoon. '_She can surprise you…'_

"Helga, please promise me you'll come back!" He couldn't believe the words that had just come out of his mouth.

She turned around and scoffed. "Arnold, what the HECK is your obsession with me remaining in this room?"

Arnold blinked and blushed. "Helga, you know I want to spend time with you, and I…" he couldn't believe he was about to be this bold with her, "I know you want to spend time with me too! You're…you're poem says so!" He fished in his pocket for the crumpled up piece of paper and held it up in front of her. "So…so why won't you?!" He looked at her almost pleadingly.

She growled and clenched her fists. "You know, you're NOT making this easy for me, Football Head!!"

"Making WHAT easy?!"

Helga was almost shaking with frustration. "Trying NOT to become your new do-gooder project!" she suddenly shouted.

Arnold blinked. "What are you talking about?"

She got into his face, gripping his shoulders with her hands, the scowl still firmly set upon her face. "You just don't get it, Arnold, do you? What you discovered last month WASN'T that I secretly wanted to be your special friend… It was that I LOVE YOU! Read my lips: LOVE-YOU!! What does that mean to you?!"

A slight blush merely came to Arnold's face, and he remained silent but breathing heavily in surprise at Helga's sudden emotional outburst. She sighed. "Look, Arnold, this isn't my fault, okay?! _I_ wanted to just pretend like the whole thing never happened and to go on with our lives, but _you_ had to keep bringing it up and bringing it up until something like what happened this weekend finally brought everything to a head, and now you want things to suddenly be different forever between us. Well newsflash head boy, 'cause here's the reality: I still have my secret, you happen to know it, and that's that! There's no permanent change between us, no me switching my entire personality overnight, no you magically having feelings fo—" Her eyes widened as she realized that she was getting carried away. "Woo! Um, well you get the drift, so I'm out of here!"

"But Helga," Arnold shoved the poem back into his pocket, "maybe…maybe we could start spending some more time together or…or partner up more in school or something because…you're really interesting and no matter what you think I really do want to get to know you better and—"

"ARNOLD!!" Helga grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. She took a deep breath. "_Get_ what I am saying: I'm not just some project you get to work on now! Everyone else in our class always seems to need you for something except for me, and now that you know that I actually do need you more than you could imagine all you wanna do is study me and figure me out and give me attention, and not because you actually _want_ to but because you're just trying to be _nice_!" She practically had tears in her eyes at this point and Arnold was in shock.

He thought for a minute, then spoke. "But, Helga, I really do care about you… I mean, I know it's not the way that you care about me…but…"

"Arnold, my point is that," she hesitated for a moment, "I know you think you're helping by trying to spend time with me and that it would make you happy but it's just going to mess me up worse than ever!" She turned away from him.

Arnold walked around her so that he was between her and the door, and then turned to face her again. "Well, that's not fair either, Helga! You're saying I either have to be in love with you or I can't see you ever again! How do you think that makes _me_ feel?!"

"Well, those are the options, Football Head—love or hate! Take it or leave it but no having your cake and eating it too!" she yelled at him.

"Can't I just like you?" he asked desperately.

"No!"

"Why not?!"

"Because _I _can't just _like_ you!!" At this point both fourth graders were breathing heavily and right in each other's faces. Arnold found himself blushing, but after two days of it he was through not speaking up because of shyness or embarrassment.

Frustrated, he stormed across his room and threw himself on his bed. "Helga," he let out a frustrated sigh, "I just don't think I understand—"

"That's what I'm saying!!" she shot at him.

She remained near the door, breathing heavily for a few moments, and observing Arnold sitting on his bed looking desperately at her. She took a few slow breaths, approached him, and in a much calmer voice tried to explain things a little better. "Arnold…you're right, okay? I _do_ wanna spend time with you! Heck, I'd kill to actually be invited to your house, hang out in your room, bond with your zany yet lovable family… But I know all that's going to happen is that I'm going to be disappointed and hurt because nothing else is ever going to come from it!"

"Like what?" yelled Arnold back.

Helga growled in frustration. "Oh, what do you _think_?!"

Arnold just raised an eyebrow at the response. Helga rolled her eyes. "Oh, just forget it, Football Head. The point is it would all be pointless and, besides, the second you get bored with Helga and get infatuated with yet another pretty but air-headed girl then it's sayonara to...to…" Helga sat down on the bed. She was losing her stamina. She really just wanted to get out of there before things could get any worse…and before it got any harder to leave.

Meanwhile, Arnold had been thinking very hard about what she had been saying. '_Is she right about me? Maybe all I'm really trying to do is make her feel better by spending time with her…which would be leading her on…but I don't just want her to be gone from my life! But I don't want to hurt her!_' He sighed to himself mentally. '_Why is this all so confusing?! I mean, what does she want exactly…she doesn't want to just be friends, and obviously even though she's saying we should be nothing it's really upsetting her…the only other option is— _" Instantly, as that thought occurred to him, Arnold felt his heart skip a beat. He tried to avert his gaze from Helga, but his curiosity got the better of him and he looked at the frustrated face of the person he had come to know and like so well not just over the past two or three days but over the past six or seven years of his life.

Arnold knew he couldn't just leave things like this and was about to say something to Helga who was still silently looking away from him. Suddenly, though, both fourth graders were interrupted by the loud honk of a car horn from the street below and the sound of Olga shouting up to her younger sister. "Helga, it's time to go!"

Arnold quickly grabbed her hand. "Helga, I—"

Out of nowhere she kissed him. Quickly and hard, not as she had on the FTi building or ever before, but in a way that nonetheless left Arnold stunned and dazed. Suddenly, he felt a hand reach into his pocket so quickly that he couldn't even think to pull it away. At last, Helga separated from him, only now with her crumpled up poem from so long ago last week in her free hand. He just sat staring at her, too shocked to say or do anything. Trying to keep up a tough façade Helga removed her hand from his, stood, shoved the poem into her own pocket, and ran from the room, fighting back tears. She tore down the ladder and stairs, out the front door, and into Olga's car as fast as she could, not stopping for a minute until she felt herself safely speeding away from her beloved's home.

Meanwhile, Arnold just sat on his bead, still immobile, trying to process the second real conversation he had ever had with Helga G. Pataki. Somehow, thought it was just too much for him to handle alone. "Grandpa…" he said it softly at first, and then his voice became louder. "Grandpa!" And, instantly, he ran down the ladder and into the hallways of the Boarding House, searching for the only person wise enough to give Arnold advice.

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**A/N:**

Well, that's all for now folks :) Again, I'm really sorry that posting this took so long but I wanted it to be just right. As for the next chapter, as I said I've written a lot of it but I've started school recently and have a lot on my plate so I can't really say when it will be coming. I want to make perfectly clear though that I have ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION OF ABANDONING THIS STORY EVER!! :) I promise it will have a conclusion one of these days! Thank you all for your patience and support and as always please R&R! Happy Reading!

**P.S.**

Guess what? Nickelodeon has finally started releasing HA! on DVD—each of the seasons is coming out in a box set that can be purchased through Amazon! YAY, Viacom hasn't forgotten about us :D (Now, all we need is a straight to DVD release of the Jungle movie…come on Viacom, you know you want to… ;) )


	11. Arnold's Poem

_Reposted with grammar edits 1/6/2010._

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**A/N:**

_I don't know if it shows up when I do this, but I'm 'editing' this chapter for no other reason than to say what I'm going to say in this A/N right now and because I feel like this is the only group of people who will truly appreciate what I've just realized about my deep passion for this show. This is possibly the most ridiculous 'You know you're obsessed with HA! when…' moment I have ever personally experienced (as in I am doing it…in my living room…right now.)_

_You know you're obsessed with HA! when…you're 21 years old, in college, have access to a car, have no homework due tomorrow and no class until noon…and are spending your night watching A Bug's Life and rewinding parts where miscellaneous characters speak because you're trying to hear exactly where Francesca Marie Smith supplies the 'additional voices' that her profile on imdb dot com says she did for the movie._

_Okay, I'm sorry, I just needed to get that out of my system. The chapter's exactly the same as it was before—it was just that it just hit me what I've been doing for the last hour and I needed to say something to someone. Happy Reading!!!_

**A/N: **

Okay, so apparently I'm on a bit of a role right now—not only did I get the preview of Changes up, not only did I start my new Arnold/Helga & Harold/Patty story, and not only did I finally get a version ready that I like of the sequel to the Christmas story that I posted last year (that'll be up closer to Christmas ;) ) but it seems I've actually come up with a final version for TA Chapter 11!!! I'm sorry this has taken so long guys—I really love this story though and I didn't want to just submit stuff for the sake of updating. I finally have a planned out conclusion though that works and so here's part of it. Please note that this is NOT THE FINAL CHAPTER. There will be one more and then an epilogue so stay tuned! Also, Chapter 12 is about 80 percent planned out and about 20 percent fully written, so hopefully it can happen soon. The epilogue's entirely planned out and it's going to be so much fun to write ;)

So, anyway, enough of my yammering!

Enjoy!!!

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 11:**

**Arnold's Poem**

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"There you are, baby sister! Did you enjoy your time wi—"

"Not—NOW—Olga!" Helga managed to spit out, slamming the passenger door as she got into the shotgun seat of her older sister's car.

Olga blinked and the smile left her face. She was used to her younger sister having a 'colorful' and 'outspoken' attitude, but she had never heard her sound so serious before. Without continuing, she put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. There were a few minutes of silence as Olga waited to see if her sister would speak again, but Helga just continued sitting there slouched in the seat, her arms crossed over her chest and her face turned entirely away.

Olga considered for another moment, and then made a new attempt at speaking to her baby sister. "Baby Sister," she put her right hand on her shoulder, "Is everything okay? You seem…upset… I mean, more than usual…" she added.

Helga merely replied with a low growl and nothing more.

Both girls sat in continued silence for a few more minutes while Helga seethed and Olga tried to think of a new approach to talking to her.

"Did something happen between you and Arnold?" Olga smiled supportively.

Helga's frustrated growl came out again but this time with a touch more darkness as she internally willed her older sister to stay out of something that was, in her opinion, completely none of her business and partially her fault to boot.

Olga's smile faded again, and she couldn't help but swallow hard. She may have been twelve years older than her sister, but she knew Helga's temper and sometimes she couldn't help but be a bit frightened by it.

She tried to think of another new approach while Helga just continued silently sitting and staring out of the window.

After another minute they came to a stoplight and Olga took a deep breath, put yet another smile on her face, and turned to Helga for a third time, putting her hand on her shoulder. "Now, now, baby sister, you shouldn't—"

"Helga!"

The light turned green and Olga accelerated forward jerkily, surprised by the fierceness of her sister's response. "Pardon?"

"HELGA!" Helga whipped around to face her sister. "My name is HELGA! Not 'Baby Sister', not 'Olga', not 'little lady' or 'missy' and absolutely not 'Olga's little sister'—HELGA, H-E-L-G-A!!! Crimeny, is it too much to ask for someone from my house to consistently get it right! I'm a person not a—a—a piece of furniture or a pet or something!" She started gesticulating wildly. "Phoebe gets it, Arnold gets it, Simmons, Bliss—but YOU," she got into Olga's face, getting hysterical, "Even with your degree and your straight A's and all of your trophies, you can't even just call me by my real first name!!! HELGA!!!"

Helga stopped her rant, her breaths coming heavily. She glared with fire at Olga, just waiting for some kind of attack, some kind of challenge that she could go off on. After what had just happened to her with Arnold she was torn between frustration and anger, and disappointment and hurt, and she just wanted anything to distract her from it and anyone to take her confusion out on.

Olga was stopped at a stop sign right by their house by this time, and was just staring at Helga. Suddenly, she pulled the car forward, parked it against the curb near their brownstone, and quickly exited the automobile.

"Olga…?" Helga's tone lost some of its edge and her scowl began to subside. Her sister's face was expressionless, and it was making her nervous.

Olga did not reply but just walked around to Helga's door, opened it, knelt down and suddenly gave Helga a very firm and warm hug. Helga blinked, totally surprised by this sudden action. After a few seconds Olga finally released her and looked her in the face. "I'm sorry, bab—Helga." She smiled. "You're right: Helga is your name and it's a very beautiful one, at that." She touched her sister on the nose and looked at her warmly.

Helga wasn't sure how to react at first. Then some suspicion returned to her face. "What's your angle, Olga?"

Olga sighed and shook her head. "Helga, not everybody has an angle. I'm sorry you always seem to think I'm not on your side. You are absolutely right about deserving to be called by your name and, speaking of which," she glanced at the stoop of the Pataki household, "I think I'll have a talk with Daddy about that later." She turned back to her sister and gave a small laugh. "He really shouldn't be making mistakes like that anyway…"

Helga scowled. "Yeah, because you're the perfect one and I'm the dud—"

"No!" Olga cut her off firmly. "Because we're two different, unique, wonderful people. I'm an award winning college graduate who enjoys teaching and helping others," Helga couldn't help but roll her eyes, "and you are a creative and gifted fourth grader who is an excellent judge of character, a loyal friend, and a lovely young lady." She gave her one more quick hug, then added, "Not to mention, I'm sure the greatest poet P.S. 118 has ever seen."

Helga hesitated for a moment, an eyebrow raised. "Really?"

"Really, Helga." She smiled.

There was a moment of silence between the two sisters. Helga wanted to continue being mad: she wanted a reason to yell a barrage of insults at the girl in front of her and race upstairs and scream into her pillow and trash her room and kick and scream—anything to get all of this pent up rage and frustration out of her. Somehow, though…looking at Olga's sincere face…she just felt all of that rage tempered by the discovery of someone who finally seemed to understand her in some small way. And as this feeling came over her, so too did a vague acceptance that no matter how much she yelled and fought and hurt someone else all of that wouldn't make anything better, and that this moment might be as good of an outcome as she was going to get out of all of the insanity that had been this weekend.

Helga sighed and gave Olga a slight push away from her, saying in a mildly sarcastic voice, "Okay, okay, enough 'sisterly bonding'… This is all getting a little 'mushy' for me if you know what I mean."

Olga couldn't help but laugh as she stood up and prepared to enter the brownstone with her sister. Helga exited her seat and shut the door of Olga's car behind her.

"So, now that that's settled is there anything you'd like to talk to me about bab—" she caught herself, "I mean, Helga?" Olga gave her an all-knowing look.

During the brief moment of sibling connection that had taken place between her and Olga just now, all of Helga's thoughts about her recent disappointing confrontation with Arnold had slipped away. Yet, now Olga's question quickly brought her back to the reality of a few minutes ago, and the slight smile faded a bit from Helga's face. She averted her gaze from her sister's. "Um…don't worry about it, Olga. I'm…I'm taking care of it…"

Olga gave her a wry smile. "Well, alright then, Helga…" Then she added, "But, you know, boys can be a little tricky sometimes, especially at your age. Whatever Arnold might have done or said, I'm sure he didn't mean it, especially if it upset you so much. He's such a nice boy, you know…" She winked.

Helga blushed an obvious red. "I don't want to talk about Arnold, Olga..." Helga tried to say in as level a voice as she could muster, though a tinge of annoyance could be detected (and embarrassment, much to Helga's chagrin).

Olga giggled to herself. "Oh, alright, Helga—but, you know, you're not the first girl to like a boy who's taken a while to come around. I remember when I was in junior high, I—"

"Olga!" Helga's eyes widened and her blush deepened. _'Oh Crimeny, this is all I need—Olga actually knowing everything and spreading my secret around with a happy smile and a song in her heart_.' Helga swallowed hard. "Listen," she began as casually as possible under the circumstances, "I…I appreciate that you're still trying to bond with me here but…I'm kind of in the middle of something and…I would just appreciate it if you didn't bring it up anymore…Besides, I do NOT like Arnold!"

"Fine, Helga, whatever you say…" Olga rolled her eyes and stood up, giggling to herself like she had some kind of secret that she was just dying to tell. Helga rolled her eyes and exited the car as well. Olga continued speaking. "Now, come on, let's get ready for our sleepover! And you can bring your new little imaginary friend along too!"

Helga tugged at her shirt collar, a tinge of guilt on her face. "Yeah, Olga…about that… Listen, there's—there's no 'imaginary friend'… That was just something that Li—I mean, that I told Lila to tell you so that I could spend some extra time talking to Arnold and Gerald… Sorry…"

Olga's face took on a look of disappointment. "Oh, I see…well, Helga, it wasn't very nice of you to lie and trick Lila into lying to me…"

Helga nodded. "Yeah, I know…"

"Does that mean that…you wanting to do the party tonight was also a lie?" Olga's eyes seemed so desperate for a negative answer that Helga didn't have the heart to give her anything else.

Helga sighed to herself. "Of course not, Olga—I…I can't wait for it!" Helga swung a fist through the air to add a gesture to her statement.

Olga's eyes lit up. "Oh, goody!!! I'm just so glad, I—"

Helga cut her off. "But, uh…is there any way we could postpone it until next weekend—I mean, if you're still gonna be here? I'm just…just a little tired tonight."

Olga smiled understandingly. "Well, I was going to take a plane back to Alaska tomorrow but if it means that much to you I would just love to stay for the rest of the week! And of course we can have the party next weekend, Baby Si—"she corrected herself one last time, "Helga."

'_Great…I don't have to suffer until next weekend but I also have to put up with Olga for another six days…'_ Helga couldn't help add to herself with a half smile.

She shook her head at her sister's change of usual words. "Olga, look, I'm sorry I blew up at you in the car…I…I don't hate it when you call me your baby sister…I mean, not _entirely_. Most of the time, yes, but…I don't know, I was just frustrated I guess…"

Olga's eyes lit up and she gave Helga one of her usual bone-crushing hugs. "Apology accepted, Baby Sister! Now let's make some preparations for the party!!!"

Helga sighed and couldn't help but smile as she answered in a strained voice since Olga was currently crushing her lungs, "Whatever floats your boat, sister!"

Olga released her and laughed. "Oh, Helga, you have such a way with words…"

And with that the two girls entered the house.

* * *

"…And then she just grabbed the poem and ran out, and now I have no idea what to do!!!" Arnold let out a huge breath and threw himself on the den couch.

He had just finished explaining everything to his Grandpa—the years of torment, the FTi confession, April Fool's Day, and the events of the last 48 hours all of which had surprisingly led up to his and Helga's fifth kiss ever mere minutes ago!

Grandpa sat in his recliner, stroking his chin and paying close attention to the words and emotions of his young grandson.

Finally, Arnold looked up at him, his face showing all of the stress he had been through recently. "So, what should I do?"

Grandpa took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, this is a doozy of a situation, Shortman… Now, let me make sure I've got this all straight: the one with the pink bow and the one eyebrow…"

" 'Helga,' Grandpa," Arnold interjected.

"Right, right, Helga," Grandpa smiled, "is the one who's always been picking on you and calling you names and playing those little pranks on you—"

"Yes, Grandpa," Arnold rolled his eyes, wanting him to move on.

"And, so, last month when you and Gerald were trying to stop Sheck, you caught her helping you out in some crazy disguise and she told you," he threw his hands up in the air in a dramatic gesticulation, "that the WHOLE reason she was doing it and the WHOLE reason she had done everything else is because she likes you…" He grinned wryly.

"Loves me, Grandpa, LOVES me…" Arnold couldn't help but add with a cringe.

"Right, right…LOVES you…" he had to try very hard to stop himself from chuckling. "So, you couldn't figure it out on your own—she had to finally just say it to you, huh?"

"Grandpa!" Arnold's expression changed from one of exasperation to one of annoyance.

Grandpa continued smiling. "Right, right, sorry, Shortman." He decided not to rub in (at least, not right now) the fact that he had been right about Helga Pataki's true feelings toward his grandson and that Arnold had been wrong. "So, anyway, now you've spent the whole last month trying to avoid her except of course during April Fool's Day when she tricked you into being her slave and her date by pretending to be blind…"

"Uh huh…" came Arnold's muffled voice. He was face down on the couch again.

"And you got her back by dancing the tango with her to distract her while Gerald opened up the underground pool so you could throw her in…" Grandpa raised an eyebrow.

"Yup…" Arnold turned over onto his back again and gazed at the ceiling.

"And now you've spent the last two days playing a bunch of games with her, getting all caught up in a lot of fights and emotional turmoil, spilling the beans to Gerald, putting this whole house into a state of turmoil and lying to Big Bob Pataki?" Grandpa leaned forward, seeming to be in eager anticipation of his Grandson's response.

"I know, I know, Grandpa," Arnold moaned, "All I've done is cause a lot of trouble for everybody including her, but I just don't know how to fix it!"

"Are you kiddin', I'm proud of you boy!" Phil stood up and swung his fist in the air in a show of affection. "Turning this place upside down is one thing, but not many people can throw Big Bob Pataki's house into complete chaos! Heh heh heh…" He laughed to himself.

"Grandpa, please!" Arnold looked at him desperately. "No jokes—I really need help with this one!"

Grandpa sat back down, "Okay, okay, Shortman. Now, before I give you any advice, is there anything else that's happened in the past forty-eight hours that I should know about?" He raised an eyebrow at his grandson.

Arnold cringed. "Well…when we were at Helga's house…I…I might have kissed her…"

Grandpa couldn't contain his smile. "Really?"

"Well…I mean it wasn't a 'kiss' kiss… It was more to prove a point about something…We were in this fight and I got a little carried away… It's a long story…" He blushed and tried to avoid eye contact with the old man sitting near him.

"Hmm…" Phil reclined a bit in his easy chair, a touch of sarcasm detectable in his voice, "So, you say that just now you were talking and suddenly she just grabbed her poem and ran out?"

"Well…to distract me while she got the poem she kind of…kissed me again…" Arnold added trying to avoid eye contact with his Grandpa once more.

Grandpa tried to stifle a chuckle. "You don't say…"

"Yes, Grandpa!" Arnold said, turning over to finally face the older man again. "And I just can't figure out _why_?" He laid his head face down on a pillow again in exasperation.

Grandpa shook his head and looked off pensively. "Well, it beats the heck out of me, Shortman… Why would she leave after you went and told her that you felt the same way? You'd think she'd be happy…"

"WHAT?!" Arnold sat up, looking in shock at his Grandfather.

Phil merely continued speaking as usual, though, staring off. "Are you sure nothing else was bothering her… Maybe something with her sister or…"

"Grandpa, I didn't tell her that…that I _love_ her!"

Grandpa's eyes widened. "Well, what the heck were you waiting for, Arnold! Sheesh, she probably left because you were taking so long that she thought you weren't going to say it!"

"Grandpa, I do NOT love Helga!" Arnold sprung off the couch and stood up, getting very defensive.

Phil scoffed at his Grandson. "Oh, come on, Arnold—I know you're young and dense and everything but, sheesh! You spend all this time with her, you're always worried about her feelings, and you've already kissed her twice today! Face facts: You're hooked!" He gave his grandson a playful punch in the arm.

"Grandpa…I just don't…I don't think that…" Arnold tugged at his collar and looked away nervously. He was struggling to put into words the same conclusion he'd been coming to every time someone began to hint at the idea that he could have feelings for Helga G. Pataki.

Grandpa addressed Arnold sincerely. "Arnold, what's bothering you about this girl, exactly?"

"It just…it just doesn't feel like I… 'like' like her, is all…" He sat back down with a defeated look on his face, his head resting in his hands.

Grandpa thought for a second. "Okay, Arnold, let me ask you this—how does it usually feel when you like-like someone?"

Arnold considered. "Well…I feel kind of light inside and warm, and whenever I see them I usually feel a little nervous, and I think a lot about all of the good things about them…maybe too much," he couldn't help but add as he thought about some of his past relationships. "Grandpa," he turned to his grandfather, "what does this have to do with anything?"

Phil smiled, ignoring the question. "Well, how do you feel about Helga that's so different from that?"

Arnold leaned back on the couch and sighed. "I don't know… I mean, I like being around her," he continued to stare at the ceiling as he talked, "and it's not so much light and warm that I feel as kind of excited and all knotted up inside…at least since the FTi thing. Like I'm waiting for something from her but I don't know what it is… And I think about the good parts of her and I like them, but I also think about the bad parts…and still like her despite them, I guess…" This last part was a new realization to Arnold, and he paused as it sunk in.

Grandpa grinned. "Go on…"

"And…she doesn't make me nervous… Well, she does but not in the same way… I mean, when I like-like someone I usually get nervous that they're not going to like me back or that I'm going to do something stupid in front of them…But with Helga I'm more worried about if I'm going to say anything that'll hurt her feelings, or if she's going to be happy spending time with me, or…" Arnold realized he was rambling and possible not making much sense, so he just turned back to his Grandpa. "It's complicated…"

Phil put his hand on his grandson's shoulder. "Okay, then, Arnold, if you're still confused then let me ask you this and you tell me if it helps clear anything up: Did you at least like kissing her? And would you do it again?"

Arnold blushed and remained silent. He opened his mouth as though he was about to speak, but then paused…He remembered his heart beating, wanting to stay in the kiss, not exactly pulling away right away… "Well…I guess I didn't NOT like it, exactly…"

Phil rolled his eyes and sighed. '_Well, it's a start_,' he thought to himself.

"Hey, Arnold… Uh, you okay?"

Arnold sat up and looked toward the entrance to the den. The question had come from Mr. Potts who was standing hesitantly with the other boarders just outside of the room.

Arnold sighed and leaned back down on the couch. "Come in, everybody…"

The group slowly shuffled into the room, clearing their throats and looking toward the floor with a bit of shame in their eyes: clearly, they had been eavesdropping.

"Arnold," Suzie Kokoschka came forward, "We're all really sorry about everything that happened with your friend today."

Arnold looked up with a half smile at his extended family. "Don't worry about it, everyone…it was all my fault. I can't thank you guys enough, though, for keeping Olga downstairs all that time. I hope she wasn't uh…too much trouble."

Mr. Potts scratched the back of his neck. "Well, she does like to talk about herself a little too much…"

Mr. Huynh nodded. "Oh yes—big time!"

Suzie elbowed them and turned to Arnold who couldn't help but smile. "But we were happy to do it, Arnold. Especially after this morning…" she added, referring to the incident when the boarders had heckled Arnold and Helga on the roof.

Arnold stood up, feeling a little better after talking to his family. "Thanks." He glanced at a clock one the wall and sighed. "I think I'm going to go to bed now, Grandpa."

"You sure you don't want to talk anymore, Shortman?" Grandpa looked at him skeptically.

Arnold smiled. "I'll be fine. Besides, I have school in the morning and…and some stuff to think about." He seemed pensive for a moment.

Grandpa smiled and stood up, putting a hand on his grandson's shoulder. "I get ya, Shortman."

Phil turned to the boarders. "Okay, everyone, nothing to see here!" He ushered them out of the room. "Time to let young Arnold get some rest from his constant boyhood problems."

"Goodnight, Arnold!" called Suzie.

"Yes, goodnight!" added Mr. Huynh.

"See ya, 'Football Head', heh heh! And say hi to Helga for me!" Mr. Potts.

"Heh heh, so since you're going to bed early you can get up early tomorrow and help me with my paper route, right, Arnold? OW!" Oskar rubbed his side where Suzie had just elbowed him.

"Oh, Oskar!"

"What? He doesn't need _that_ much sleep…"

Arnold shook his head and smiled as he watched the group of colorful characters exit the den.

Grandpa chuckled and sighed. "So, Shortman, got any plan for what you're gonna say to her tomorrow?"

Arnold hesitated a moment. "I think Helga and I just need one uninterrupted open conversation to really figure things out… I don't know how I'm going to make that happen but…I'll find a way." He smiled at his grandfather.

Phil smiled back. "Good plan, Shortman." He began to head toward the hallway. "Now, come on, Arnold—I think there's still one more piece of raspberry cobbler left. We can split it before you hit the sack!" His face took on an expression of annoyance as he added, "That is if that bum Kokoschka hasn't already gotten his grubby mitts on it!" He scowled.

Arnold smiled and followed. "Sure, Grandpa."

Before the two finally entered the kitchen, though, Phil spoke up one more time. "Say…Arnold?"

Arnold looked at his Grandfather. Yeah?"

Phil continued. "So, you didn't tell her you loved her. Well, what DID you tell her, then?"

* * *

Arnold thought for a moment. "I said…I asked her if she wanted to spend time with me…to come over sometime…so we could become better friends…" Arnold looked to Gerald to see what his opinion would be on having asked this of Helga.

Arnold and Gerald were walking toward the P.S. 118 building for another Monday morning of school, and of course the first thing Gerald had asked of his best friend upon seeing him was what had happened between him and Helga the previous evening.

Gerald raised an eyebrow at his best friend at this particular reply, though. "Arnold, you are without a doubt my best friend… That being said, do you even _think_ when you speak around that girl?"

Arnold sighed. "Yeah, Grandpa said something like that too when I mentioned it to him last night…"

Gerald sighed and stopped walking. "Arnold, look, I hate to say it but did it ever occur to you that maybe you might be crushin' on Helga Pataki? Just a little?" He pushed his thumb and forefinger together horizontally.

Arnold stopped walking as well and sighed again. "Grandpa said something like that too…"

Gerald rolled his eyes, giving is friend a look that said, 'Well…?'

Arnold raised an eyebrow and glanced at his best friend. "Oh, come on, Gerald, not you too!?"

Gerald crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised a skeptical eyebrow at Arnold who, under his accusing stare, could not help blushing slightly and turning away. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Gerald, can we talk about something else…?"

Gerald raised his hands in the air in a sign of defeat. "Okay, okay…whatever, man."

The two continued walking on in silence for a few more moments. While Arnold was looking forward pensively, though, Gerald was grinning ear to ear and trying very hard not to let an audible laugh escape his mouth.

A small chuckle finally snuck out, though, and Arnold turned to see what his best friend was up to. Gerald quickly made his face seem serious and tried to act as though nothing had happened. Arnold shrugged and looked forward again. Suddenly, another small laugh escaped from Gerald, but when Arnold looked at him his face was serious again, though it was obvious he was straining. This happened once more and finally Arnold stopped.

"Gerald!"

Gerald shook his head, still smiling and trying to cover up his laughter with his hand. "I'm sorry, man, it's just that…well, now there's a chance I was right!"

Arnold raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Well…" Gerald rubbed that back of his neck, "It's kind of a funny story… When I was talking to Helga yesterday back at her house—before I found out about…you know…" he faked a cough to cover up the awkward moment, "I, uh…" he laughed again, "I actually told her that what I thought was going on between you two was that, uh…_you_ were in love with _her,_ and she was leading you on!" He gave Arnold a playful punch in the shoulder and laughed.

Arnold just blinked at his best friend in amazement. A second passed and then he looked forward again and resumed walking. "I think I'm starting to understand why she didn't want to tell you…" he mumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Gerald caught up with Arnold and put a hand on his shoulder, smiling. "Oh, come on, man, I was just kidding."

Arnold sighed, giving up on being annoyed with Gerald, and the two continued walking.

After a few seconds, though, Gerald spoke again. "You know, Arnold, Helga's never been one of my favorite people but I've got to say this for her: I did not see her having a crush on you coming _at all_."

Arnold blushed. "Gerald…"

"Seriously, man," Gerald began defensively, sensing Arnold's distaste for talking about his feelings for Helga again but at least wanting to bring up this aspect of what had happened yesterday. "Did she ever tell you how long this thing's been going on? Because if it's been awhile I feel like we should have noticed something by now…"

Arnold, realizing that Gerald was not about to let the topic of him and Helga go and just thankful that he was getting it out of his system now on their private walk to school as opposed to during the public hours of lunch and recess, answered unenthusiastically. "Well…I…I think it's been ever since she met me…" He recalled the words of her rooftop confession: ' '_I love you, Arnold, I've always loved you, ever since I first laid eyes on that stupid Football Head of yours…'_ '

Gerald's eyes widened at the statement and then he faced forward again, smiling. "Mmm, mmm, mmm, well, that settles it—crushes and stuff are definitely a girl thing."

Arnold raised an eyebrow at his friend. "What do you mean?"

Realizing that he had just said this particular thought aloud, Gerald blushed. "Well…" glanced away, a little embarrassed, "You remember how when I left your house yesterday I walked Phoebe home…?"

Arnold half smiled. "Yeah?"

"Well, Helga was actually the one who set that up… Something about 'being an expert on the romantic subtleties of our class' and me shooting Phoebe glances for the last year and a half, heh heh…"

Arnold chuckled. "Yeah, she is pretty sharp about stuff like that…" He smiled and began to stare off into space.

Gerald raised an eyebrow at his friend as he stayed in a daydream trance for a few more seconds. "Arnold, you-who? Earth to Arnold!" He waved a hand in front of the football-shaped head.

Arnold blinked and blushed, realizing that he had gone into a daze at the thought of Helga. He tried to cover it up as best he could by coughing and asking innocently, "What…what?"

Gerald rolled his eyes. "You are a bold kid, my friend…dense and bold…"

"Gerald, I am not in love with Helga Pataki. I'm just a little confused. Wouldn't you be?"

"Hey man, whatever let's you sleep at night."

The two boys had walked up the stoop of P.S. 118 and now entered its doors along with a swarm of other kids.

"So…" Gerald began in a low voice as they made their way through to crowded halls to their lockers, "As long as we're still on the topic of you and Helga, any chance you wanna fill me on in what exactly happened between you two on the roof of the FTi building that apparently started all of this insanity?"

Both boys stopped near Arnold's locker. The blonde boy put in his combination, opened the door, and placed his extra books inside. All of this stalling complete, he paused for a second and, taking a deep breath, turned to his friend. "I think…I think we might have made out…Technically."

Gerald just stood there wide-eyed and completely silent.

"Gerald?"

"Huh?" Arnold's voice coupled with the sound of his locker door slamming shut brought Gerald back to reality. "Oh, uh…li—listen, man…if you don't want to tell me what really happened, you don't have to, but," he was trying his best to smile, "But leave the implausible urban legends to _me_, okay?"

Arnold raised an eyebrow. "Gerald, I'm telling you the tru—"

"Arnold!" Gerald put a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "I'm…I'm still in a pretty fragile state with this whole thing…I'm gonna need baby steps, okay?"

Arnold smiled and shook his head. "Okay. We played a quick hand of Go Fish and she mentioned that she doesn't entirely hate me. Any better?"

Gerald gave a sigh of satisfaction. "There we go—much more logical image in my head now. Thanks, man." Gerald held out his hand and the two boys did their secret handshake. "Now, let's go to class."

Arnold laughed and with that the two boys went off to Mr. Simmons' room.

* * *

The morning passed without much incident. Classes went by quickly enough, though Arnold didn't pay much attention which was unusual for him considering he had always been such a good student. Instead, his thoughts were occupied with when, where, and how he could manage to talk to Helga…and most importantly, why she wasn't in class today…at least, so far…

Finally, lunch rolled around and Arnold found himself sitting at a table alone with Gerald, playing with his food rather than eating it. Gerald was talking but Arnold wasn't paying much attention, a melancholy look on his face.

"Arnold, Arnold? Man, are you listening to me?" asked Gerald, an annoyed look coming to his features.

Arnold blinked and looked up at his best friend, "Huh?"

Gerald sighed and pushed his tray to one side. "Okay, Arnold," he put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I know you want to talk to Helga, and I know she's not here today, and I feel your pain but you've got to let it go." He removed his arm and smiled. "Just call her up after school or stop by her house..." Suddenly, though, Gerald recalled how things had been left off with Big Bob Pataki and shuddered. "Actually, don't stop by her house unless you want to be a victim of 'death by irate beeper king.' "

Arnold couldn't help but crack a smile at the joke, though his face still seemed listless. He pushed away his tray of played-with-but-uneaten food and rested his wide head on his hand. "Gerald…I know I should probably know the reason for this already but can I ask you a question?"

Gerald took a sip of chocolate milk. "Shoot, man!"

Arnold sighed and reclined back a bit in the cafeteria chair. "Why do you think Helga got so mad at me for what I told her yesterday? …I mean, I know it wasn't what she wanted to hear but…it really upset her _a lot_."

Gerald raised an eyebrow. "What, you mean the thing about wanting to be 'BFFs' and hang out together like she's Stinky or Harold or someone?"

Arnold raised an eyebrow. "BFF's?"

Gerald rolled his eyes. "Best Friends Forever? Seriously, Arnold, Phil's right—you need to get with the times!"

Arnold gave his friend a half lidded look of annoyance. Gerald cleared his throat and continued. "Anyway…Arnold, let me answer that question by asking you a question."

Arnold blinked. "Okay…uh, shoot."

Gerald took a breath, considered his wording, and then spoke, looking his friend in the eye. "Arnold, do you remember how you used to 'like-like' Lila and she just liked you?"

Arnold crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, staring absently at his tray. Gerald continued. "And do you remember how you were always trying to spend time with her, like at the movies and the cheese festival and even just walking her home…"

"Yes, Gerald," Arnold said with a hint of exasperation, glancing at him.

"Well, most of the time she turned you down, right?" He took another swig of his chocolate milk.

"Gerald…" Arnold wasn't enjoying this trip down memory lane.

"Arnold, just hear me out. She turned you down sometimes, but other times she did spend time with you, right?"

"Yes," Arnold answered blandly.

"But every single time, no matter how good of a time you guys had together, it always ended the same way…" Gerald geared up for a Lila impression. " 'As I've told you before Arnold, I don't 'like you like you', I just like you.' "

"Gerald," Arnold was getting a little annoyed at this point, "What's your point?!"

Gerald stopped and sighed. "My point is, Arnold, that Helga likes you _a lot_ and you got upset at her because she wasn't willing to just forget about that and be your friend, just like Lila used to try and make you do." He put a hand on Arnold's shoulder. "Look, man, I know you really wanna get to know Helga better but think about how it would feel for her always having to be just your friend. Always hoping for the possibility of something more but never getting it just like you and Lila… I mean, it's probably been working okay so far because you've never been on really friendly terms with her, but if she'd said yes to you you'd be together all the time. I can't believe I'm saying this about Helga but…it's not really fair to her, when you think about it."

Arnold seemed to take this sage words very seriously. He features were pensive and his eyes stared down at the table as though he was weighing certain things in his mind. '_I'm really, really stupid, aren't I? Gerald's right—it wasn't fair of me to put her in a position like that. Just because I like the attention I get from her and like getting to know her is no reason to make her life miserable like mine used to be whenever Lila and I would do something and she would just reject me again in the end_.' Arnold couldn't help but glance over at Lila who was eating lunch with Phoebe and Brainy, and smiling at them. Somewhere over the last month or so, he couldn't say when, specifically, but somewhere he had stopped feeling all knotted up inside and goofy whenever he was around the red-haired girl. However, he could still distinctly recall the frustration and the disappointment that had consumed him whenever she had turned down his romantic advances…and he realized with a sick lurch in his stomach that the situation would have been even worse for Helga who hadn't just had a crush on him for months but had loved him for years.

Arnold smiled to himself, certain now of what he should say to Helga. He turned to his best friend, the grin still on his face. "You know, Gerald, you're really smart."

Gerald smiled to himself. "Well, I try man…Hey, maybe I should be the one giving people advice from now on." He winked and elbowed Arnold.

Arnold smiled. "Yeah, and maybe I could tell an urban legend or two…I could start with the one about me and Helga on the FTi roof—"

Gerald's smile fell into a serious face. "Don't push it. Baby steps, Arnold, baby steps."

A second of silence passed and then the two boys broke into laughter. This action concluded and with only a few minutes left in the lunch period, Arnold pulled his tray back in front of himself and tried to eat at least a bit of his food while he still had the time.

* * *

It seemed like the blink of an eye but suddenly lunch and recess were both over, and the boys were preparing to endure the last few classes of their day. They returned to their lockers to pick up their books, as well as their English assignments which would be handed-in very soon.

Arnold cleared his throat. "So, Gerald, what did you end up doing your English poem on?"

Gerald turned the combination lock on his locker and opened it. "I just turned one of my many urban legends into a sort of ballad… Actually, a lot of Helga's suggestions came in really handy, you know…" He finished shoving some books in and shut the door.

Arnold did the same. "Yeah, she was pretty great…" He couldn't help but smile.

Gerald rolled his eyes at the reaction and smiled. '_He's a goner._' "So, what did you end up writing yours on, anyway?"

Both boys started walking toward Mr. Simmons classroom. "Oh, Helga helped me write some small poems about the boarders…I figured I'd just hand in a few of those as my project. You know, working with her and writing stuff down actually helped me realize a lot stuff about my family."

Both boys entered the classroom and sat at their respective seats. Gerald gave a slight chuckle. "Maybe you should try doing something like that to help you figure out Helga? You know, writing stuff down so that you can understand how you feel about her a little better."

"Gerald," Arnold blinked, "That's…that's brilliant…"

Gerald, who had been half-kidding with his suggestion, turned back to his best friend with a raised eyebrow.

He was about to ask Arnold what exactly he meant by his response to the suggestion when suddenly Mr. Simmons entered the room, effectively cutting off their conversation. "Okay, class, settle down and let's start with our Geography lesson!"

"Aw…" came the cry from students throughout the room.

Gerald took a deep breath and faced forward. _'Man, why do I feel like I might have just started something…'_ He glanced back at Arnold, who was sneaking a small spiral notebook out of his backpack and quickly writing things inside of it whenever Mr. Simmons turned toward the blackboard. '_Oh boy…_' Gerald sighed to himself and rested his head on one of his hands.

* * *

As the afternoon progressed, Arnold sat and for the first time in his life really tried to write about Helga G. Pataki in poetic form. The first thing that came to his mind were the two brief four-line works he had spontaneously created about her on Saturday: the one about her as a person and the one about her confession and the truth of her feelings for him. He quickly jotted both of them down, not wanting to forget them, though it took him a moment to recall the exact wordings.

He looked at the two paragraphs for a few minutes, thinking and thinking about what it said about him and Helga and about what it didn't say…at least, not yet. As the second half of the school day progressed, Arnold commenced to expand and add to those two stanzas. If writing poems about somebody could help Helga figure out her feelings and make her feel better, why couldn't it work for him as well? He thought about their childhood, their relationship overtime, their relationship now, how he couldn't seem to get her out of his mind…and how (and this was another interesting realization for Arnold) the way he felt about her he couldn't recall feeling about anybody else in his life.

'_I just hope this works,_' he thought to himself, scribbling in a few words and erasing some others, and switching a couple of stanzas. '_It actually feels pretty good doing this…I understand why Helga likes it so much. I mean, it's hard making what I want to say into a poem, but at least now all of these things are written out and right in front of me instead of all jumbled in my head. And if it __does__ actually help me figure out exactly what's going on with me and Helga...maybe I can find some way to get her back…_'

Arnold was focused on his little enterprise for quite a while. In fact, he didn't emerge from his work until he was roused from it by a halt in the familiar sounds of Mr. Simmons lecture and the squeak of the door to the fourth grade classroom opening and closing.

"Helga? How special of you to join us," announced a smiling Mr. Simmons (who was happy Helga had made it in time for English class so that he wouldn't have to fail her for not handing in the assignment). "A late start today?"

Helga's face betrayed no emotion. She merely handed him a tardy slip and replied listlessly, "I, uh…wasn't feeling well." As she walked to her seat she added, with a slight scowl coming to her face, "A small pain in my neck." Arnold could have sworn that she briefly turned her iron gaze in his direction, though the action was almost imperceptible. He gulped and tried to remind himself that no matter how upset Helga appeared she would never actually hurt him…or at least, it was very unlikely.

Mr. Simmons turned his attention to the entire class, smiling and clapping his hands together. "Okay, class, Helga's just in time for…yes, that's right: English and Creative Writing! So, everyone, take out your special assignments and hand them in!"

The sound of papers shuffling and desks opening could be heard as the students searched for their assignments.

Arnold listlessly opened his backpack and searched inside for…

Suddenly, the football-headed child's eyes widened as an image came into his head of the object he was searching for and where it was at this moment…The notebook from his room that Helga had torn the black pages from for their classmates to use during the tutoring session…the notebook that was still flung carelessly on his desk full of all of his Boarder poems.

'_But, but—'_ Arnold thought with panic to himself, searching through his desk and backpack again just to make sure the notebook was indeed not there. '_How could I have forgotten it?! It was the whole point of Helga tutoring me this weekend! If I don't hand anything in, Mr. Simmons will have nothing to replace her grade with and she'll fail!_' He swallowed hard as his thought finished. '_And I'll fail…_' Arnold closed his eyes and sighed, trying to come up with a way out of this one.

Meanwhile, though Helga had made a firm resolution to avoid and ignore Arnold as much as possible, her keen perception couldn't keep her from noticing the obvious distress he was suddenly in. Scowling, she raised an eyebrow in curiosity. _'What's the deal with __him__…?_'

Her thought was interrupted by Mr. Simmons, who had been making his way down the lines of student desks was finally at hers. The teacher reached out a hand for her assignment, smiling, and said quietly so no one else could hear, "I especially look forward to reading your poem this week, Helga—I hope our special 'arrangement' " he made air quotes at this word, "helped to inspire you and others this weekend." At the word 'others' he made the slightest nod in Arnold's direction.

Helga just sighed and handed him the page: one of her Arnold stand-bys written sometime in third grade. A guaranteed 'A.' "It was definitely a 'special' 48 hours, I'll give you that."

Mr. Simmons raised an eyebrow at the reply. However, remembering that there were more students to collect from, he shrugged it off for now and took her paper written with classic purple ink (as always with the word 'Anonymous' in big letters at the top) and continued on down the line.

Mr. Simmons wasn't getting any farther from collecting Arnold's poem and Arnold was well aware of this fact. '_There's got to be something I can…_' Arnold had been looking through all of his papers and as a result they were all spread on his desk. He pushed them aside and flipped some of them over, hoping beyond hope that somewhere one of the Boarder poems would magically appear. He moved on to the lowest layer of papers and suddenly in front of him appeared the open page in his notebook…an open page where he had been conveniently enough working on a poem… Instantly, the solution to his dilemma occurred to him though his brain quickly dismissed it. '_You can't…you can't do __that__._' He glanced back at Helga who was scowling and…seemed to be stabbing the inside of her math book? Arnold raised an eyebrow at the action and shook his head, turning away. '_If she fails because I don't have anything to hand in and it looks like she didn't tutor me...she'll kill me. If I do what I'm thinking of doing…as long as she doesn't EVER find out…she won't be any angrier at me than she is right now…right?_' Arnold gulped: though it seemed comforting enough in his head he couldn't help but admit to himself that this logic probably wasn't entirely sound or full proof.

Mr. Simmons was only a few desks away. For a last jolt of encouragement, Arnold took a deep breath and leaned over and forward toward Gerald, tugging on the boy's shirt. Gerald turned back to his best friend, a slightly annoyed look on his face since he had just been having a conversation with Phoebe. Upon seeing the serious look in Arnold's eyes, though, his face became very attentive.

Arnold looked at him and asked quietly, "Gerald…I'm a bold kid, right?"

Gerald raised an eyebrow and replied sincerely, "Uh, the boldest, man."

Arnold took a breath. "Okay, good…thanks, Gerald."

Arnold reseated himself and began to tear out a particular page of notebook paper. Gerald just watched his friend with a concerned expression for a few more seconds before turning back to Phoebe. He shook his head. '_Mmm, mmm, mmm—what is that boy up to now?_'

Phoebe raised an eyebrow at Gerald, seeming concerned by the brief exchange that had just concluded between the two best friends. "Gerald, is everything alright?"

Gerald considered. "I'm not sure…" he lowered his voice considerably, "I think there might be some more drama coming up, though, so let's get prepared for damage control, just in case."

Phoebe nodded, looking a bit worried. Just then, Mr. Simmons came around to her and Gerald's desks. "Thanks, you two." He said warmly as the students handed in their assignments.

A few more desks and Mr. Simmons was at Arnold's. He smiled down at the football-headed boy. "Arnold, I'm especially looking forward to seeing what you've written, too. I hope you found working with someone else helpful."

Arnold, his palms sweating slightly, handed over the folded piece of notebook paper on which he had quickly scribbled his name and the assignment title. " 'Helpful'…doesn't even begin to describe it, Mr. Simmons." Arnold answered, trying to put on a smile.

He was about to hand the paper over to Mr. Simmons when he felt himself hesitate. "Uh, Mr. Simmons?" he asked in a quiet voice. The teacher raised an eyebrow and Arnold continued. "You're not going to read these out loud or hang them up or anything, are you?"

"Well, if a student wants to share one of their special pieces of writing I always encourage it. But no, Arnold, I won't hang them up: I don't want to inhibit any of you from writing how you truly feel." Arnold breathed a sigh of relief. Simmons continued. "Sometimes, though, I read one or two aloud if I think they're really good."

Despite this bit of news Arnold wasn't concerned: he knew Mr. Simmons usually didn't say the person's name of a poem he read, and besides…there was no way that after only two days with Helga his writing had improved enough to be read aloud in class. The poems that that usually happened to were always really good and really pretty…almost like love poems actually… Arnold's eyes widened and he smacked himself in the head as he FINALLY realized whose poems were so often getting read aloud and whom they were about. '_Thank goodness she never wrote my name in any of them…and thank goodness Mr. Simmons always says 'Anonymous' '_.

After he had collected all of the poems, Mr. Simmons placed them on his desk and erased the chalkboard, writing something new in big letters across it. "Alright, class! Now, I know I gave you all a big project this weekend so, to thank you all for being so good and doing your best, I'm going to read and grade these while you all have free time to talk about the special creative writing skills you developed this weekend and your own personal poetic inspirations!"

And with that the fourth grade class burst into conversation about the latest gossip, the baseball game scheduled for Wednesday against the fifth graders, and plans for next weekend which seemed a lifetime away.

* * *

Phoebe stood up. "Gerald, I think I ought to go talk to Helga… She seems upset. I mean, more so than usual." Phoebe was actually a little frightened about the dull but seething anger seeming to radiate from her unusually silent best friend. In addition, Gerald had just been explaining to her what had transpired yesterday afternoon between Arnold and her best friend, and now she was more worried than ever about Helga. He had also mentioned the strange exchange he had just had with Arnold, and how it seemed like, on top of all the drama that had already taken place, something _else_ might be up.

Gerald nodded at Phoebe's suggestion. "Just don't say anything to her about whatever's going on with Arnold right now—if anything bad happens I've got this feeling that it'll be better if we handle it ourselves."

Phoebe nodded and smiled at Gerald, happy to have someone to help her out with the ever-present Helga/Arnold situation that seemed to have grown exponentially more complicated over the last couple of days.

Phoebe headed toward the back of the classroom. However, a concerned Arnold stopped her before she could make it to Helga. "Phoebe should I…should I go talk to her with you?"

Phoebe glanced from Arnold to Helga who was now ripping pages out of a very familiar pink book and tearing them into strips for spitballs, a scowl on her face.

Phoebe sighed. "Arnold, I would advise not being in the same room as her right now, but, since that can't be helped, I would definitely allow her to work through her emotions a little while longer before speaking with her."

Arnold was about to protest, but then conceded to Phoebe's advice with a sigh and a smile. "Okay…thanks, Phoebe."

Phoebe only nodded at him, not wanting to look like she was taking sides with him to Helga who was obviously glancing at them.

With a deep breath, Phoebe approached her best friend. "Konnichiwa, Helga. Are you feeling well?" she asked hesitantly.

Helga's mouth opened, and Phoebe was prepared for a sarcastic biting comment the purpose of which would be to make her go away and leave her friend alone. However, Helga just took a breath, her eyes closed, and then let out a sigh. In a controlled voice she replied, "I'm fine now, Phoebe. How are you?" She tried to smile, resting her head on her hand.

Phoebe blinked, surprised by the response. "I'm quite well, Helga. I'm glad you feel better. Is everything okay between you and…ice cream?"

Phoebe could tell Helga was straining not to let her temper unnecessarily flair. It wasn't that Helga's anger hadn't had a while to cool since yesterday, it was just…having to be here with Arnold who she knew was going to try and talk to her and work things out and present his case for friendship again as soon as the bell rang was driving her nuts. In fact, knowing for certain now that there was no chance of anything between them but still having to see him everyday in school and around the city and in her every waking and sleeping thought…it was, needless to say, a little frustrating and she was dying to take out said frustration on anybody. After the fight in the car with her sister the other day, though, Helga had decided to try and control her anger and not blow up at people just because they were there. With Arnold out of her life, the last thing she needed was to lose any more people. All of this self-control was proving difficult, of course, but ultimately it was for the best.

Helga sighed. "Phoebe…let's just say I've been feeling a little 'lactose intolerant' lately."

Phoebe blinked. "Helga, I don't—"

"Okay, class!" Mr. Simmons announced, "Back to your seats! I've finished looking over most of your papers and they're quite good." Phoebe made her way back to her desk, a concerned look on her face, as Mr. Simmons continued. "I'll have the grades by Monday but since we've got ten minutes left before the bell rings…I'd like to read one assignment aloud."

Helga sighed at the predictable statement. It took all her willpower not to reply, '_Wow, Mr. Simmons: how special and original! What's next—you going to call on people to answer math problems in math class, or maybe just partner me up with Arnold again for another project?'_ Instead, she just settled for murmuring to herself with a dull look on her face, "Here we go again: 'This poem is by Anonymous…' "

Mr. Simmons grabbed one from the pile and cleared his throat. "This poem is by A—"

He hesitated, which caught Helga's attention considerably. The other kids in the class seemed too distracted by the clock which was threatening to reach the hour of three to pay much attention to their teacher's pause, but Helga waited and listened carefully for what he would say next. Mr. Simmons seemed to be looking with concern and confusion into the crowd of students, though it was hard to tell who he might be looking at from the student vantage point. Finally, the instructor smiled, cleared his throat, and continued. "This poem is by Anonymous."

Helga's scowl became firmer. '_Sheesh, what's with __him__? Oh well, here we go—he reads my love poem, everyone ooos and ahhs, and no one's ever the wiser about my secret…_' Helga was calm for a few seconds but then a new thought entered her head. _'I mean it's not like they'd ever figure out those poems Simmons reads are by me… They'd have to know I was a poet or someth—'_ Her eyes widened. '_Oh Crimeny! Will the consequences of my love for Arnold never cease?! Great, now he's gonna read about my devotion to my football-headed little darling_,' Helga felt her old poetic affection for Arnold rising up again, '_and with my luck they'll all turn around and look at me just knowing that I wrote the poem…the LOVE poem…Oh man, I've got to get out of here and never come back!' _Helga was seriously about to try sneaking out of her desk and toward the classroom door while her peers were listening to Simmons' recitation. Her plan then was vague… It definitely involved hair dye and enrolling at P.S. 119, though… Now, what would be a good name to assume?

"Uh, uh, Mr. Simmons!" Helga suddenly found herself standing up and yelling before he could continue reading the poem.

Mr. Simmons glanced at her. "Yes, Helga?"

"We, uh, we don't _really_ have to read one aloud, right? I mean, there's only a couple of minutes left in the day—how's about you let us go a little early, instead, huh? I mean, I don't know about everyone else but all that tutoring this weekend really killed me. Am I right?" She glanced around at her classmates.

Mr. Simmons dropped the paper to his side, and Helga breathed an internal sigh of relief as it looked like her plan to stall until the bell rang was working. "Helga, what are you talking about?"

"She's talking about the tutoring session she gave for the entire class yesterday, Mr. Simmons." Arnold suddenly stood up, much to Helga's surprise, and in his voice she couldn't help but detect a tinge of panic. She wondered why…

Mr. Simmons' eyes seemed to light up. "Helga, is this true?"

"Well, uh…" Helga couldn't help but blush. She didn't like being the center of attention so suddenly, at least not under these circumstances. "Uh…yeah. I mean," she scowled, avoiding eye contact with the obviously pleased teacher, "I was helping Arnold and they all showed up and I just figured, 'why not?' Heh heh heh…" She sat down, feeling a bit more confident that Mr. Simmons was finally going to forget about his reading of the poem in his hand. Arnold seemed to share her sentiment and sat down again as well.

Mr. Simmons smiled at all of his students. "Well, in that case, I definitely think we need to read at least one poem—just to show you all what great work you can each accomplish when you work together."

Both Helga's and Arnold's eyes widened at these words. They watched their teacher lift the paper back up to his face, his mouth opening. They each had their own fears.

"Uh, Mr. Simmons!" Gerald stood up. "Maybe it would be better if one of us volunteered to read our poems for a change—I know I'd be willing to read mine." He smiled.

Phoebe stood up and nodded. "Oh, yes, Mr. Simmons, and I'd certainly like the chance to read mine as well."

Gerald cleared his throat after a few seconds of silence and glared at Lila. Finally, with a firm elbow nudge from Phoebe who was seated in the desk next to her, Lila stood up as well. "Oh, uh, yes, of course, Mr. Simmons—I'm ever so sure I'd like to read mine as well, if possible." She smiled.

Mr. Simmons beamed again, lowering the paper from his face much to Arnold and Helga's individual reliefs. "Well, class, I must say that this is a special surprise—I'd be happy to let each of you read your poems, if you'd like?" The other kids, however, didn't seem very receptive to his idea and shot looks at Lila, Gerald and Phoebe.

Gerald tired to ignore them and cleared his throat. "So, uh, how about it, Mr. Simmons?" He smiled.

"Certainly, Gerald." Mr. Simmons glanced at the clock—only a few minutes left in the day. "But we don't have enough time left, today." Small smiles came to both Helga's and Arnold's faces. Simmons continued. "I'll just read this one and then I'll set up a schedule for tomorrow's English class."

Helga couldn't help a very small panicked gasp escaping her mouth, though no one noticed. Arnold closed his eyes and dragged a hand down his face in resignation. '_Well…maybe this won't be so bad. At least he'll say anonymous and it's not like I used Helga's name or anything.'_

Suddenly, Helga stood up, having made up her mind about something. '_If I go up there and take Simmons aside and ask him not to read it for personal reasons, everyone's gonna know that it's by me and that it's embarrassing and they won't stop until they find out what it's about: that's definite. If he reads it, though, then, ultimately, they can't prove that it was by me: there'll be doubt and I might be able to salvage some of my reputation. Still, I'm not going to stay here while be reads it, not with things the way they are now—I won't be able to handle __that__!'_

"Mr. Simmons, can I go to the bathroom?"

Mr. Simmons paused again and blinked. "Helga, are you sure you can't wait until the bell rings?"

Helga looked at him sincerely. "But, Mr. Simmons, if I do that then I might miss the bus and then I'll have to walk all those blocks back home."

"Well, alright, Helga. But please come back as soon as possible."

Helga crossed the room, making eye contact with no one, and left. As she closed the door behind her and entered the silence of the hall, the last thing she heard Simmons say was, "This poem is called…"

* * *

Five minutes later Helga was trying to casually walk back to Mr. Simmons' fourth grade classroom—however, despite maintaining her usual gait and blasé face, she could feel her insides twisting up into sick knots as ideas of what could possibly be awaiting her in that room entered her head.

'_Okay, come on—there's __no way__ this is going to turn out nearly as bad as you think, Helga, old girl. Besides, you've had more than your fair share of cruel irony and awkward situations over the past two days—I mean, you're the OPPOSITE of due, right?!'_

Helga turned a corner and saw the door of her classroom no more than ten feet away. She swallowed and paused. '_Seriously, Helga, get it together! Those losers probably didn't even listen to Mr. Simmons read the stupid poem—I mean, before I left half of them were drumming their fingers against their desks and boring holes into the clock with their eyes. And even if they did listen, there's no way they could prove it was by me—the worse that I could get is a few snickers from Harold or Rhonda or someone…nothing I haven't handled before.'_ Helga's confidence was returning slightly and she started to approach the door again. '_And even if they all paid attention and put together that it's a poem by me, there's barely a chance that they'll be able to get WHAT it's about, let alone WHO…(if Arnold's any kind of a gauge, that is).'_

Helga reached the classroom door, took a breath, put on her usual commanding face, turned the handle, and opened the door. She stepped into the classroom.

Her confident face faltered perceptibly as she noticed every ten-year-old's eyes very suddenly and very firmly locked onto hers… Every ten-year-old, that was, except the one with the jelly bean green eyes she'd always admired so…

'_Prudence…yeah, I like that_,' was the only thought that entered Helga's mind upon seeing this sight. '_That's definitely a keeper for potential new names to call myself when I transfer to P.S. 119…'_

* * *

Silence continued in the classroom for what felt to Helga like an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds considering that the bell still hadn't rung despite the fact that only mere minutes remained in the school day.

Helga wanted to just break away from their stares, say 'Hey, take a picture it'll last longer', and with a scowl make her way to her desk. However, despite her best efforts, she just couldn't bring herself to even shift her legs forward and close the classroom door behind her. Frozen like this with no end in sight, Helga did the only thing she could think to do—she tried humor.

"Uh, hey, guys… What—do I have some toilet paper stuck to my shoe or something? Heh, heh…"

No reaction. Helga swallowed hard and the smile she'd been trying to fake with this observation fell entirely. '_Oh boy_…'

"Helga." With his usual smile Mr. Simmons turned away from the chalkboard he had been writing on. Helga's comment had alerted him to the fact that she had returned. "Please take your seat—we still have five minutes left until the bell rings."

Somehow, being requested to sit down by her teacher and the fact that she could no longer think of anything else to do in response to this situation into which she'd walked allowed Helga to quickly make a break for her desk. As she made the brief journey across the classroom she tried to keep her gaze downward and any blush under control, though she could feel the eyes of everyone upon her. Finally, she sat down and looked directly at the board, still ignoring the stares of her peers. '_Somebody, shoot me—please, anybody. That bell's gonna ring in five minutes and then my life is going to be over: Painfully, embarrassingly, and actively over_.'

Mr. Simmons finished writing something on the board and then turned back to his students. "Okay, class, I've written your reading assignments for the rest of the week on the board, so please take the last five minutes of the day to copy them down and make any special study plans with each other." He glanced down at a small piece of paper on his desk, grabbed a pen and wrote something it, and then picked it up, smiling at his students again. "I'm just going to head down to the office really quickly to hand in Helga's tardy slip. If the bell rings before I get back, please feel free to leave and have a special day." Mr. Simmons walked across the classroom, opened the door, exited into the hall and pulled the door closed behind him, leaving the fourth grade (and Helga) alone.

Now, normally under the circumstance of a teacher leaving a classroom and giving permission for the class to be dismissed if the bell rang (an event which was pretty rare), there was a universal agreement among all elementary schoolers in all classes that as soon as the coast was clear, everyone bolted for the door regardless of the bell going off or not. Hey—a freebie is a freebie, after all.

However, as the door clicked behind Mr. Simmons, rather than hastily packing up their things and heading to the hallways, every fourth grader turned to stare in Helga's direction—some even shifting their desks closer to her or getting up and walking right over to the side of the room she was on.

Helga looked at the faces suddenly crowding her in, trying her very best to keep the total terror she was feeling out of her eyes. '_For Pete's sake…this is some kind of dream, right? Seriously—things involving Arnold have gone bad before, but this is nightmare territory_.'

Helga gave herself a slight pinch, and twitched at the pain. However, she was still in the classroom and still surrounded by her classmates. _'Great_…'

Another second had passed and finally Helga couldn't handle being silently backed into a corner like this anymore. She resumed her usual scowl. "Is there something I can help you all with or am I just on fire and don't realize it?"

The other kids looked to each other and a few whispers were exchanged among people. Out of the corner of her eye, Helga could see Gerald and Phoebe talking as well, though with expressions on their faces that were more worried than curious. Lila, as well, seemed to be eyeing her with concern now that she took a second to look around her better. Helga tried to find Arnold among the other kids but they were gathered pretty close around her at this point and she wasn't in much of a mood to make a lot of eye contact with other people in order to search for him.

Suddenly, Rhonda, who was at the center of the group and thus the closest to Helga, put a hand on her hip and announced very matter-of-factly, "Hello? _The poem_, Helga?"

"Rhonda, I don't understand what exactly the problem is…" Phoebe Heyerdahl spoke up timidly. "It was just a school assignment, after all…and there was no name mentioned so I really don't see where your conclusions are coming from…"

Rhonda whipped her head around. "Phoebe, please! You and I and everyone else know what that poem sounded like and I think the fourth grade has a right to know if something serious is going on between two of its classmates." Rhonda smiled as a few whispers of agreement followed her words.

Gerald scowled. "Come on, Rhonda, seriously—" he addressed the other kids as well, "I don't know about you guys but I'd rather be heading home early right now than caring about who was part of some dumb school assignment. Who else is with me?"

Gerald tried to be enthusiastic with this question but the only response was two very weak and simultaneous "Me"'s from Lila and Phoebe, who quickly cleared their throats and averted their gazes when they realized that no one else seemed to be agreeing with them.

Rhonda put on a look of false sincerity. "Hmm…going to my piano lesson five minutes early or uncovering one of the juiciest pieces of gossip in P.S. 118 history?" She resumed her scrutinizing glare and turned back to Helga. "Spill—what do you know about the poem Simmons just read?"

Helga blinked, still trying to maintain her cool. "Uh…look, Rhonda, first, cut the attitude. Now. Second, in case you didn't notice when you stared me down while I was coming back into the room, I was in the bathroom the whole time Simmons was reading it so I don't have a clue what poem you're talking about!"

Rhonda scoffed. "You wouldn't have had to have heard it Helga—it had you written all over it!" Many murmurs of assent filled the small space that Helga G. Pataki now found herself enclosed in by her classmates.

Helga blinked and did her best to keep her voice sounding strong despite her compulsion to pass out considering her current situation. "Look, I don't know what's so incredible about this poem you think I wrote, and I don't even know why you think I wrote it, but—"

"Um, Helga…" The sound of Stinky interjecting cut her off.

"What?" she asked acidly.

"Well…" the boy shuffled his feet for a moment, "It wasn't exactly that the poem sounded like it was BY you…"

Helga stared at him in shock.

"Yeah," chimed in Sid, with a smile on his face that he was trying to hide. "It sounded more like it was…well…"

There was another second of silence and Helga could feel her heart racing.

Sid made eye contact with Harold who also started to smirk. "Yeah, it sounded more like…like it was…" Suddenly, he and Sid burst into laughter. Stinky joined them.

Helga was ready to pop. '_Sounded more like it was 'what'? Like it was something you'd find in a fortune cookie, like it was plagiarized, like it was the essence of my being?!?! What?!?!?!_'

Rhonda, meanwhile, scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, cut it out you two!" She turned back to Helga. "Helga, it didn't sound like it was BY you—it sounded like it was ABOUT you!"

The room went silent again as everybody awaited Helga's response to this statement.

The young blonde just raised an eyebrow and said the first thing that came to her mind at this bizarre accusation. "Excuse me?"

Rhonda sighed in frustration. "The—poem—Simmons—read—was—about—you!"

Helga just continued to stare at her, her mouth still agape. "…Excuse me?"

Rhonda growled and threw her hands up in the air in frustration just as the bell rang.

The other kids looked to each other for a few seconds, debating whether to continue this interrogation of Helga or to finally get out of the classroom. Helga's completely and genuinely incredulous looks at Rhonda's words, though, seemed to be working in the young blonde's favor, and the group of kids slowly moved away from her to grab their things and head toward the door. A fair amount of whispering was still going on among them, though, and anyone could see that this thing about the poem was far from over…

The bell had rung and the kids were finally leaving her alone, but Helga still sat with a completely puzzled look on her face, thinking. She went over the lines of her poem again and again in her head, and there was no way she could come up with that any one could think it was describing her. Every poem she had ever written had been about Arnold, and that's what she'd been expecting upon walking into the classroom and seeing all of their wide stares in her direction—that Simmons had read another 'good poem', that they'd guessed it was by her because they'd just found out yesterday that she was talented at poetry, and that somehow something had tipped them off that it was about Arnold. Naturally, this was a bad situation—but it was a situation that made sense and that she had been at least mildly prepared to deal with. But this one…them thinking the poem that had been read was _about_ her…? She couldn't even begin to imagine how….

The idea of a poem being about her…Helga was getting a certain sense of déjà vous as she tumbled that thought around in her mind…

* * *

Meanwhile, across the room Phoebe was talking to Gerald, a look of concern in her eyes. "Gerald," she whispered, trying to avoid getting the attentions of any of the other kids, "she's just sitting there not moving… Do you think I should go talk to her?" She glanced back at Helga's still pensive face. "And where's Arnold?" She turned back to Gerald.

Gerald shrugged. "I'm not sure…" He sighed. "But, Phoebe, I think if anyone should talk to her right now it should be him…" Gerald rubbed his temples. "Though I hope he does it in a public place because if she figures out what I think is going on…she'll kill him: all secret feelings aside." It hadn't taken Gerald long to put things together and to realize that Arnold had indeed submitted a poem about Helga G. Pataki to Mr. Simmons…a poem that everyone now unfortunately _realized_ was about Helga G. Pataki.

Phoebe raised an eyebrow and hesitated a second as she considered what Gerald had just said. Suddenly, her eyes went wide as though she'd just realized something. "Oh Gerald—that wasn't his…I mean—he—he didn't?!"

Gerald sighed. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he did…"

"But…why—?!?!" was the only thing Phoebe could think to say.

Gerald cleared his throat and did his best not to look guilty considering the fact that he had been the one to suggest Arnold start writing down his feelings about Helga. "Because, even though he's my best friend, sometimes he doesn't really think things through…especially when he's in love."

"But Gerald, I…" Suddenly the last words he had said hit Phoebe and her eyes lit up. "Oh, Gerald, what did you say?!?!"

Before Gerald could answer, though, a ferocious growl sounded from across the classroom that caused Gerald and Phoebe's heads to whip around in alarm.

Helga had just figured things out.

* * *

Helga Pataki stormed past Phoebe and Gerald, out of her classroom, and into the hallway, a look of death in her eyes.

"Helga," her best friend piped up mildly, seeing the degree of Helga's anger, "Maybe…maybe you should just…take a few moments to…"

"Phoebe." Helga's voice sounded level, but in frightening way. She didn't even turn around to look at the young girl. "Not. Now."

"Helga?" Gerald tried.

Helga whipped around and grabbed him by the shirt collar. "Where. Is. He?" she hissed.

Gerald swallowed hard. "I don't know. When the bell rang I looked around for him but I think he left the room when everyone got up and started talking to you…"

Helga knew that Gerald's fear of her was strong enough that he wouldn't risk lying right now. And, to be honest, she hadn't been able to find Arnold in the crowd that had surrounded her either. With a growl she let him ago, turned away and stomped down the hall.

She hadn't gotten more than 10 feet when the heckling began. Rhonda, Nadine, Sheena and a VERY hesitant Lila approached her. Rhonda didn't waste any time. "Okay, Helga, spill—you're the one who helped everyone with their poems yesterday. Who do you think wrote about you?"

"Rhonda…maybe—" Lila began.

"Come on, Helga, seriously—we're already taking bets," Rhonda smiled, ignoring Lila's plea, "Who do you think has the crush?"

Helga felt her heart flutter. She lunged forward, grabbed Rhonda's shoulders and pinned her against the nearest set of lockers. "Rhonda, right now I am looking for someone," she spat, rousing her anger as much as possible, "so, unfortunately, I'll have to kill you later. But if you want it to be quick and easy instead of slow and painful then, for Crimeny's sake, LEAVE ME ALONE!" She dropped Rhonda and stormed off in another direction.

Unfortunately, it didn't take more than another ten feet before she was met by the guys of Mr. Simmons' fourth grade class (minus Gerald and Arnold, of course), who were more than ready to give her a razzing about this one (hey, it was nice that she'd helped them out with their English homework, but someone having a crush or someone being crushed on was BIG news on the elementary school circuit).

"Helga and someone sitting in a tree…" Harold began.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" joined in Sid and Stinky. The other guys began to laugh along.

Helga wasted no time punching Harold right in the gut and walking right past the boys. Harold fell to his knees, completely winded. The other guys quickly stopped their laughter and looked at each other in total surprise—they knew Helga wasn't the type to take anything from anyone but they'd never seen her angry enough to just go straight to physical violence without at least trying some sarcasm first.

Harold coughed a few times, then managed to stand up, a scowl on his face. "That's it, Helga, forget teasing—I'm gonna pound ya!"

Helga growled and rolled her eyes. Suddenly, from the other side of the corner she'd just turned she could hear a familiar female voice. "Come on, girls, she went around this way. I want to know what's up with this poem once and for all!"

Harold was approaching her with a fist and Rhonda was closing in, and all Helga needed was a minute to think. She bolted around the next corner, looking from side to side for an escape. She settled on the Girls Bathroom and raced inside. "At least being here will keep the boys off my back: I just have to hope that none of the girls figure out I'm in here. Then I can wait until everyone leaves, head over to the Boarding House, climb the fire escape and throttle Arnold with my bare hands!"

Helga took a few breaths. Frustrated and with nothing to do she went back over to the bathroom door and pushed it open slightly, trying to hear if she was indeed being followed.

"She went down here!" she heard Sid yell. Helga growled.

"Hey, she might be in the Girls Bathroom?" Nadine suggested.

Helga let the door shut and rubbed her eyes. "Oh, just _perfect_!" The ten-year-old turned and examined her surroundings. '_Window's too small to sneak out of, even if I hide in a stall they're going to check every single one…_' Suddenly, a familiar sight in the upper corner of one of the bathroom walls caught her eye. "Finally, I catch a break!"

* * *

"I _can't_ believe this…"

Arnold had been saying this statement over and over to himself for about the last fifteen minutes. Yet, somehow the fact that Mr. Simmons had read his poem (or more specifically read his poem about HELGA) to their entire class…and the fact that their entire class had _realized_ that it was about Helga….somehow it was all having trouble sinking in. And the fact that he had had no idea just how badly they were going to react after Simmons had left wasn't helping to ease the nauseas feeling consuming him now as he sat alone in one of the stalls of one of the Boys Bathrooms of P.S. 118.

Arnold could not recall a single more embarrassing or stressful incident in his life than when Mr. Simmons had read his poem aloud to the class those few minutes ago. Honestly, being driven in a broken down bus by Gerald over an open drawbridge had been cake compared to those few minutes. '_How does Helga do it almost every day?_'

To be honest, it wasn't so bad having Mr. Simmons read what he'd written aloud (especially since, upon seeing that it was his paper in Mr. Simmons' hands, he'd managed to communicate to the teacher before he'd completely said his name that he would rather the word anonymous was used). The problem had been what had happened after—in those two minutes between when Mr. Simmons had finished reading and when Helga had entered the room.

_**FLASHBACK**_

"I would like to thank the very special student in our class who wrote this poem, and I hope you'll all thank Helga again later for helping you with the assignment." Mr. Simmons, smiling, put the piece of paper with Arnold's poem on it into his desk.

Arnold was trying really hard to make eye contact with absolutely no one. He just sat, praying the bell would ring soon so that he could go back to the boarding house and take a very long nap…like for the next week or so. If he would have glanced up, though, he would have noticed Gerald giving him the most incredulous look imaginable.

"Mr. Simmons…" The sentence broke the silence of the room.

"Yes, Rhonda?"

A slight pause. Arnold managed to glance over at her and couldn't help but notice that she seemed to be fighting back a smile.

"Mr. Simmons…" Rhonda continued, "Um…who did you say that…that poem was by, again?"

Mr. Simmons erased some things from the board. "Now, Rhonda, you know if a student requests it that I can't mention their name when I read one of their poems."

She seemed to be seriously trying to hold back some laughter. "Of-of course, Mr. Simmons." She cleared her throat. "Sorry."

Mr. Simmons picked up a piece of chalk. "Okay, class, now I'm going to write out the rest of your English assignments for the week on the board, and as soon as you're done copying them down and the bell rings, you can go."

He turned his back to the class to start writing, and as quietly as possible all heck broke loose.

The kids began whispering to each other—as silently as possible, of course, so as to keep from bothering their teacher. They spoke slowly at first, almost like they were testing the waters with something, and then much more rapidly as their quick observations to one another seemed to be being confirmed. Arnold was seated only one row away from Rhonda. As a result, he could hear it as she turned to the group of boys behind her and asked, much to his horror, "Okay, which one of you wrote a poem about Helga?"

Arnold felt his face drain of all color.

Sid, Stinky and Harold looked at each other in confusion and then shrugged their shoulders at Rhonda. Rhonda turned to Nadine at her side and pointed at Iggy and Eugene, signaling to Nadine to ask them next since she was closer to them. Arnold felt his stomach twist—he knew that Rhonda would signal to Sheena to ask Brainy and Gerald (she could ask Phoebe, but he doubted Phoebe would comply with the request, all things considered), and then he would be the only person left. She was going to ask him if he had written that poem about Helga and between how nervous he was right now and the fact that he had never been able to tell a successful lie in his life, Helga's secret would be blown. Sure, they would all just know that Arnold had written a poem about Helga, but the point was that eventually it would lead to people not just taking a closer look at how Arnold treated Helga (though of course, there was nothing secret there—he was just friends with her…the only reason he'd written the poem was to figure out some stuff about that friendship, right?), but at how Helga treated Arnold…

Sure enough, Rhonda tapped Sheena on the shoulder and whispered something to her, and Sheena responded by leaning over and whispering something to Gerald who seemed to give a very curt response and roll his eyes. And now it was going to be his turn…

"Uh, hey guys… What—do I have some toilet paper stuck to my shoe or something? Heh, heh…"

Arnold blinked in surprise at the sound of the voice, and at the sight of every head now turned to look at the doorway where its owner had just entered.

"Helga," Mr. Simmons turned to the girl, "Please take your seat—we still have five minutes left until the bell rings."

Arnold watched as the eyes followed Helga all the way across the classroom to her seat. As she sat behind him, though, he unfortunately couldn't turn to see the expression on her face without making it very obvious to the rest of the kids that he was looking at her in particular.

Mr. Simmons finished writing something on the board and then turned back to his students. "Okay, class, I've written your reading assignments for the rest of the week on the board, so please take the last five minutes of the day to copy them down and make any special study plans with each other." He glanced down at a small piece of paper on his desk, grabbed a pen and wrote something it, and then picked it up, smiling at his students again. "I'm just going to head down to the office really quickly to hand in Helga's tardy slip. If the bell rings before I get back, please feel free to leave and have a special day."

Mr. Simmons left and Arnold turned around with a shock at the movement of the entire class across the room and toward Helga's desk. '_Uh oh…_'

Instantly, Arnold felt his muscles tense. He wanted to get up and stand between the crowd and Helga: to defend her and help her and tell them to stop all of this, and to admit that _he_ was the one who'd written the poem about her so _he_ was the one they should be coming after. In fact, he was already half way standing up…

And then, for the first time, Arnold really thought about just how much the consequences of his actions always seemed to be amplified in the case of Helga. '_If I admit that I wrote the poem and tell them to leave Helga alone, it'll just confirm to everyone that it's about Helga. They'll make fun of her anyway…except this time they'll be making fun of her about me. She could barely handle Gerald making a few side jokes about the two of us yesterday—if the whole class starts teasing her about what I did…even if it's not about her secret, it's still about me… she might fall apart._'

Arnold sat back down, thought for a moment, and then came to a decision. '_Helga's right—I need to quit trying to make decisions to help her without taking into account what she thinks.' _He sighed and made sure that everyone was still fixated on Helga.

"Is there something I can help you all with or am I just on fire and don't realize it?" he heard her say from the center of the circle of students who were, indeed, still focused on her.

Quietly, Arnold got up, made his way across the classroom, and out the door. As he silently pulled the door closed behind him he breathed a sigh of relief. '_I want to help her but I can't just start doing anything I want because I think it'll make her happy. The less attention I bring to her and I being friends, the better. Besides, I know if Rhonda saw me she'd remember to ask me whether I wrote the poem and Helga and everyone else knows I'm horrible at lying.'_ Arnold slapped his palm against his face and dragged it down, exclaiming to himself in frustration now that he was alone in the hallway. "I couldn't even keep it a secret that Iggy wore bunny pajamas, for crying out loud!"

Arnold took a deep breath to calm himself down and looked up at the hall clock. _'Still a few minutes left before the bell rings…I could leave now but the busses don't start showing up at the school until 3 so I'd still be on the same one as everyone else. Even if I walked I'd be bound to run into someone since I don't have much of a lead_…' Arnold glanced around the hallway. Finally his eyes lit on a door and he shrugged his shoulders, walking toward it. '_I guess I can just hide out in the Boys Room and catch a later bus back to the Boarding House._' And with that Arnold had entered the bathroom.

_**END FLASHBACK**_

And since then, here was where Arnold had been, slowly letting the most stressful and potentially embarrassing day of his life sink in.

He sighed to himself and looked up at the ceiling. "I can't believe Helga's had to go through stuff like this for the past seven years…" He rested his head on one of his hands and tried not to smile as he thought ironically to himself, '_No wonder she's angry at everyone all the time.'_

* * *

"OW! Oh…oh, oh, aw, for the love of—Why do these things always and only happen to _me_?" These were some of the exclamations coming from Helga G. Pataki as she made her way through the air vent system of P.S. 118. Hearing Rhonda and the other girls about to enter the bathroom with more questions for her, Helga had seen her only way out as the air duct near the ceiling. Balancing one foot on the windowsill and another on one of the sinks, she had just barely managed to pull off the grate, climb inside, and pull it back on. Now she was crawling around, trying to find her way to somewhere that wasn't a Boys Room or crowded with people.

She pulled some cobwebs out of her hand and coughed as a cloud of dust went up in her face. "Grr…you'd think I'd have learned my lesson after the fiascos of going through Arnold's air ducts, but nooooo—instead, here I am knee deep in spiders and who knows what else! I am an idiot!!!"

Helga turned a corner and came upon another air vent grating. She tried to peer down and see where it led but it seemed dark inside. "Still, if it's dark in there, there's probably no people. Maybe an office or an empty classroom or something…"

Helga did her best to move the grate aside, and drop down into the space below.

Needless to say, she landed rather hard on a very random assortment of things.

She coughed several times. "Sheesh, where the heck am I?" Groping around she managed to grab onto something and stand up. She felt around the wall for a light switch.

"Ah, there we go!" Helga flipped the lights on.

"Okay, janitor's closet…I can work with this ." Helga pulled a bucket off of one of her feet and placed it on the floor upside down. She sat on it and brushed the dust from her hands. "Now, I just have to wait until everyone's gone…" she leaned back against the wall and sighed, "and then I can go and kill Arnold…" She reached into her jumper and pulled out her locket. "Arnold, Arnold, Arnold…" Helga wasn't even aware of the slight smile coming to her face at the sight of his smile image, "for doing the sweetest…" Helga quickly blinked and cleared her throat, resuming her scowl, "I—I mean the stupidest…that's right, the _stupidest_ thing he's ever done!"

Helga was angry. That was undeniable. Yet, she couldn't entirely ignore the undercurrent of elation flowing through her at the idea of Arnold writing a poem about her—just like on Saturday when he'd composed those first few brief lines and she'd felt her insides melt. The idea that he could feel enough for her, even if it was just friendship (at the thought of this word she couldn't help but cringe), to write something about her was a level of happiness she'd never thought she'd be able to reach. It made the difficulty of the confession, the awkward moments over the last few months, and even the chaos of the past weekend all worthwhile. Arnold didn't hate her. He didn't love her but at least he didn't hate her.

Her eyes narrowed again and she whispered acidly to herself, "But what was he THINKING?!?!? Submitting it in class like that—humiliating me—backing out of the room and leaving me to face everyone?!?! I told him to quit interfering, to quit trying to make me his stupid project, to forget about me, and this is what he does!? He pulls me right back in again! Grrr!!!!" Helga let out an exasperated sigh and tossed a dustpan across the room, effectively stirring up more dust and making her cough even more.

She cleared her lungs and crossed her arms over her chest. When the dust had settled, Helga gave her locket a long, hard look. "This is the last time Arnold…" Slowly, she released her grip and piece of heart-shaped gold clattered as it hit the tiled floor. She was doing her best to keep up her anger for when she would confront Arnold, but she could feel hot tears at the backs of her eyes threatening to come forward…

* * *

"Arnold, man, you in here?" This was the third Boys Room Gerald had looked in searching for his best friend. He wasn't near the lockers, he hadn't gotten on the three o'clock buses, and he wasn't outside on the front steps. Gerald sighed to himself. '_Man, I hope he didn't just walk home…if Helga finds him before I do, he's dead…"_

"Gerald?" Arnold opened the door of the stall he had been in and looked wide-eyed at his best friend.

Gerald breathed a sigh of relief. "Arnold, _finally_!!! I've been looking for you all over the place! Have you seen Helga, yet?"

Arnold shook his head and walked toward his best friend. "No. Is everything okay?"

Gerald shook his head. "_Noooo_," he replied very emphatically. "Man, she figured out that that poem everyone thinks is about her must be by you and she's STEAMED. Why did you sneak out of the classroom like that?"

Arnold sighed and walked over to one of the sinks. "Well, I was going to say something when Rhonda and everyone surrounded her, but I just thought…I don't know…that somehow I'd just mess things up even worse!" He crossed his arm in front of his chest, a frustrated look on his face.

Gerald raised an eyebrow.

Arnold continued. "I mean, every time I try to make things better it just seems to upset her…But I—it's hard because…I care about what happens to her." His eyes became downcast as he recalled his last conversation with Helga Pataki yesterday afternoon. He sighed and shook his head. "Sometimes I think she really would be better off if I just left her alone…"

Arnold looked up in surprise as he suddenly felt Gerald's hand on his shoulder. "Look, Arnold," he smiled, "I know things have been going from bad to worse over the last couple of days but…she's really upset and you've gotta talk to her about this and get things settled better than you did yesterday before things get even worse."

"But how do I—"

"Come on, man—the school's practically empty so there's no chance of running into anyone from class. We'll walk home, get some ice cream from the Jollie Ollie man and come up with theories about what to do about Helga—it'll be just like old times." He headed toward the door.

Arnold actually cracked a smile. "You mean like thirty-six hours ago?"

Gerald smiled and pushed open the door. "Exactly!"

Arnold shook his head and exited the bathroom with Gerald, finally smiling.

"And the best part is we've got Phoebe to help, now!" Gerald said as they entered the hall, gesturing to the young Japanese-American girl leaning against some lockers near the door.

Phoebe smiled as she saw the two boys exit the room. "Oh, Arnold, we found you! Excellent!"

"Hi, Phoebe." Arnold greeted her.

"Alright, let's do this, everyone! Operation 'Keep Arnold from Blowing Everything' is underway." Gerald smiled.

As the three began walking down the hall, Arnold couldn't help but smile at his best friend. "Gerald, I know it's not Sunday anymore but I think I should mention again that you are the coolest, smoothest, most hip dude in the entire city…"

Gerald nodded. "Thank you, man—and well put, if I do say so myself."

Arnold chuckled. "And I'm also impressed that you've been taking this Helga thing so well…I mean, except when I mentioned the FTi thing, really, _really_ well."

Gerald shrugged. "Yeah, well…I figure I'm still gonna be in shock for another day or two, so I might as well just go with it for now. Don't be surprised, though, if on Wednesday night at around 3 in the morning you get a freaked out phone call from me when the reality of it all sinks in."

"Gerald!" Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him, grinning.

Arnold just shrugged. "Fair enough."

And with that the party of three continued their walk down the hall.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the closet of solitude…

Helga was tearing a paper towel into pieces and idly chanting to herself. "He _deserves_ to die, he deserves to die _not_, he _deserves_ to die…"

Finally, bored out of her mind, she threw the rest of the paper towel down and stood up. She walked toward the door, putting her ear near the crack. "Tell me everyone's gone so I can get out of here, already, without my own personal elementary school paparazzi!"

At first Helga could hear nothing. Then the sound of footsteps—not many people, two or three at the most—and some laughter. "Darn it!" she whispered to herself. She was about to go and sit back down on her bucket when the sound of a familiar voice caught her ear.

"Gerald!"

'_Phoebe_.' Helga thought to herself. '_What are those two still doing here_..?' She considered for a second coming out of the closet and seeing if she could snag Phoebe away from Gerald and talk to her for a little while. Helga had a lot of emotions built up inside of her, not just from the last half hour but from the last three days, and she really needed someone to talk to who wasn't Arnold.

They must have been getting ready to pass right by her door because suddenly Helga heard in a voice that managed to set both her heart and her temper afire, "Fair enough."

'_Arnold_.' She turned off the lights.

* * *

It was very strange: one second Arnold had been laughing with his best friend and Phoebe Heyerdahl. Now, however, he was laying on his back in the dark in some kind of enclosed space.

He blinked in the darkness and tried to think of what had happened. Instantly, his hand travelled to the back of his neck near his shirt collar, and he remembered the sudden feeling of being grabbed from behind before finding himself here. "What pulled me?" was the first thing he could think to say.

Suddenly, the lights flicked on. Arnold blinked a few times at the sudden brightness.

The sound of a familiar voice made his eyes fly open wide and his heart stop.

"I'll give you a hint, Football Head…It starts with 'Your Worst' and it ends with 'Nightmare.'"

"Helga!" He scrambled backwards, knocking several items to the floor.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the hallway…

"So I was thinking Jollie Ollie man for ice cream but we could always go to Slausen's too—that way we would could really sit down and try to figure out what to do next. What do you think Phoebe?"

Phoebe nodded. "I believe you're right, Gerald—Slausen's would probably be a better atmosphere all around."

Gerald smiled and turned around to his best friend. "What about you, Arnold…ARNOLD?!?!" He stopped and did a double take at the sight of his best friend having suddenly vanished.

Phoebe turned around and gasped. "Arnold?! Gerald, where did he go?"

"He was just here, unless…" Gerald searched the hall. '_Okay, there's the bathroom we came out of…the lockers we passed…the janitors closet…_' Gerald eyed the closet very suspiciously… "Phoebe, wasn't the light in there off when we passed it…?"

Phoebe blinked. "Gerald…you don't think that…" She glanced back at the closet.

A muffled cry of "_Helga!_" from behind the door followed by a loud sound made both fourth graders look at each other in fear and then run toward the closet. Gerald pulled at the handle as hard as he could. "Locked!!!" He pounded on the door. "Arnold, Arnold, you in there?!"

"I'm sorry," came a falsely innocent and muffled voice from the other side, "Arnold is currently occupied right now—please leave a message at the sound of MY FIST!"

Gerald looked at Phoebe. "She—she's just messing around again, right?"

The look of concern on Phoebe's face was obvious. She didn't respond right away.

* * *

**A/N:**

Okay, I hope everyone enjoyed this 17,500 word chapter :) Chapter 12 is going to be the final one and then the epilogue and then this thing is over! It's been a crazy ride but I've loved every minute of it and I hope you all have too!!! Thank you all again for being such a patient audience and I'll do my best to get the conclusion to this insanely huge fic up soon! Happy Holidays, happy reading, and remember—AXH FOREVER!!!


	12. They Know!

**A/N:**

Okay, before you all freak out and call everyone you know and tell them that **TA** is finally OVER, please note that this is **not the last chapter**—the conclusion was just getting TOO long so I've decided to break it up into a Chapter 12 and a Chapter 13 (which means, unfortunately, that Arnold's poem is actually in Chapter 13). However, I have everything fully typed and grammar edited (including the epilogues) so Ch13 should be up in the next couple of days, followed very quickly by the two epilogues. I want this story completely posted before I go back to school and that's Saturday, so in less than a week, everything will be done!!!

For now, please enjoy Chapter 12 which has some things in it that I hope will make up for not getting to see Arnold's poem for a few more days (it's all written out, though, and I hope it's in character and that you guys all like it!)

Also, thanks to **A Silver Cloud's Lullaby** and others for pointing out some of the grammar problems as well as the fact that some of the scene break lines I had inserted using MS Word weren't showing up on the documents when they were posted on the site (I've started using the ff dot net line breaks now). I've also done grammar edits and reposts on all of the other chapters in case you want to go back and read them to refresh your memory or anything.

Also, _severe_ bonus points to anyone who knows what awesome anime series I'm slightly referencing with the cool thing Phoebe does outside of the closet. You'll know it when you get to it ;) (Hint: Don't let the mention of the word 'ninja' throw you off—it is NOT Naruto!)

Okay, so please, get to reading!!! I'm dying to know what you all think!!!

**Disclaimer:**

Believe me, I wish I WAS Craig Bartlett—I would've loved the chance to bring a show like this to the world. (As for wishing I was Viacom and Nick…yeah, I'm going to pass on that…way too corporate for me.)

**Dedication:**

This one (in fact this whole fic) is for everyone who's ever contributed anything to HA! from the creators to the voice actors to the fans. Especially the fans, though, because I think that by reading the fanfics and drawing the fan art and making the fanvids and just loving the show in general, we kind of give it a second life, you know?

Alright, enough of my ridiculously long A/N's. Enjoy :)

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 12: **

**They Know!!!**

* * *

"Arnold! _Arnold_! Don't panic! We're going to get you out of there!" There was a pause in Gerald's shouts of assurance. "Somehow…" Another pause. "Probably…"

These hesitations did little to assuage the fears of Arnold who was currently trying to duck out of the grasp of Helga G. Pataki much as he had done on the roof of the FTi building only a few short weeks ago. However, Helga's intentions this time around were a little bit different than they had been the previous month.

"I am going to KILL you!" She lunged.

"Helga, now, come on! I-I know you don't really want to hurt me!" He ducked.

"Oh, Arnold, you are seriously overestimating my self control—you have NO IDEA what I want to do to _you_ right now!" Another lunge.

"Helga, I don't want to have to stop you, but—but I will if I have to!" The tone of his voice didn't exactly bespeak too much confidence in this plan as he ducked yet again.

"Oh, PLEASE!!!" Helga lunged once again.

"Helga, enough!" Arnold had barely escaped her that time. "Okay, that's it!"

The janitor's closet not being designed to house a physical altercation between two ten-year-olds, a lot of items were being knocked over and scattered everywhere to the point where neither Arnold nor Helga could move much anymore. Looking around, Arnold finally realized that this 'fight' needed to stop before one of them actually did get hurt, or before anyone outside besides Gerald and Phoebe heard what was going on. He took a deep breath, considered for a second, and then with a slightly guilty conscience did the only thing he could think of to calm down an angry Helga G. Pataki.

Arnold took a breath, closed his eyes and suddenly lunged right at her, wrapping his arms around her body. If holding her hand or touching her shoulder had been enough to make her momentarily tense-up over the last two days, then a hug should have that effect significantly magnified. '_Hopefully_…' he couldn't help but add to himself.

Sure enough, Helga's breath caught in her throat at the feeling of Arnold's arms around her body, though she was still riding a bit of an adrenaline rush. "Let me go! Let me go, Arnold!" She was struggling, but she could feel her will to pull away waning as she became more and more aware of the warmth of his body and the pressure of his arms. "I said…" Her voice was faltering and she had finally stopped fighting to get out of the hug. "I-I said let me go…"

"That depends…" Arnold, his arms still wrapped around Helga, pulled back slightly so that he could look at her face. "If I let you go, are you going to calm down so that we can talk about this?"

"Before or after I mount your head on my living room wall?!" seethed Helga with her last bit of full fury.

Arnold glared at her and made no motion of releasing his grip.

"You know, I could break out of this stupid hold of yours if I _really_ wanted to." She leered at him.

Arnold didn't falter. "That's the point: you don't want to…not really…" Helga growled but he ignored her. "Now, truce?"

Helga took a few more heavy breaths, though they were slowing down. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, feeling a blush coming to her cheeks as the adrenaline faded away leaving only the raw awareness of her beloved holding her in his arms. "Okay," she replied in a somewhat level voice, "Okay, just let me go, already, and we'll 'talk,' Football Head."

Arnold lingered in his hold of Helga for a moment longer and then tentatively released her. He breathed an internal sigh of relief that she didn't suddenly grab him by the throat or slam him into a wall.

Finally free from her beloved's grasp, Helga took several slow, deep breaths more and then spoke, her eyes closed. "Okay, Arnold…I'm going to try to keep my temper as under control as I possibly can. I am really going to try and not hit you or anything like that, and just 'talk'." She put air quotes around the word. "That being said…" Suddenly, her eyes flew open and hands were clenching his shirt collar. Arnold's eyes widened in surprise as she finished her sentence. "…Are you OUT of your MIND?!?!?!"

"You're talking about this whole 'poem' thing, right?" Arnold couldn't help it: he knew Helga's patience was practically gone at this point, but right now he was more afraid of her than he had ever been in his entire life. As a result, the slightly humorous question was the first thing out of his mouth before he could think of something better. He half grinned and hoped that somehow she wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Helga growled furiously and Arnold shut his eyes tight as he saw her fist fly forward.

He heard the sound of her fist making contact and then waited a second for the pain to hit. Then two seconds. Then three seconds. Still, there was nothing. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes to see Helga a couple of feet away rubbing one of her fists like it was sore. He looked down at his body and felt his face: nothing. Finally, he glanced around the room and saw a 'wet floor' sign that had been hanging from a hook on the wall now upon on the floor, and severely dented on one side.

Arnold blinked and then turned back to Helga, approaching her. "Helga, are you okay?" he asked in a genuinely concerned voice as he realized that her bare hand was what had managed to damage the sign so severely.

She looked up and, seeing him approach, backed herself into a corner, scowling at her beloved. "Oh, just shut up, Arnold! Of course, I'm fine—I'm going to have bruises all over my knuckles sometime in the next hour, but I'm fine. Jerk." She turned away from him and crossed her arms over her chest.

Arnold blinked and a look of incredulity came to his face. "Helga, why did you do that?" '_She could have broken her hand_!' he thought to himself. '_I almost wish she __had__ just hit me instead_.'

Helga whipped around and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, for the love of—" She growled to herself again and then looked Arnold right in the eye. "Because, CLUELESS, I really needed to hit SOMETHING after you tossed that stupid sarcastic question on top of everything else you've done to me over the past three days, but unfortunately I couldn't actually hit YOU because _stupid_ me is still in love with _stupid_ you. So, instead, I hit the first thing I saw that _wasn't_ shaped like a Football and that _wouldn't_ make me feel like I didn't deserve to live if I took a piece out of it! Why the HECK are you so slow when it comes figuring out why I do things when I'm around you, Football Head?! It should be obvious—the answer is always 'Because I love you!!!' " With this last statement she had grabbed a very stunned Arnold by the shoulders and looked at him not with anger so much as pure frustration and even a touch of desperation.

A moment passed and then Arnold took a deep breath and slowly stepped out of Helga's grasp. He cupped both of her fists into his hands and lowered them. He looked sincerely into her eyes and finally spoke. "Thank you, Helga." He smiled slightly at the distraught girl before him. Helga's eyes lost their scowl and she blinked at the response to her sudden rant. Arnold's smile increased just slightly and he let her hands go.

Arnold took a deep breath and addressed Helga again. "Okay, so, are we ready to talk about this?"

"Just so I'm clear—we're talking about this whole 'poem' thing, right?" Helga didn't exactly mean her repetition of Arnold's words to sound ironic, though the implication couldn't be helped. In a way, though, she wanted Arnold to just flat out admit that he had written that poem and that it had been about her. What exactly she was hoping to gain from such a confession, though, even _she_ wasn't entirely positive. Sure, there was the satisfaction of having him admit his guilt, but there was also something inside of her that made her heart flutter wildly at the idea of Arnold admitting to caring about her enough to do something as huge as write a poem about her, regardless of how utterly stupid it had been to do so as evidenced by their current situation.

Arnold couldn't help the slight smirk that came to his face at the sound of the mocking question. He tried his best not to laugh, though, so as not to upset the delicate truce he had finally managed to form with Helga. "Yes, Helga. About how I…" he suddenly became aware of just how awkward this topic was, and glanced away, "…how I wrote, um, a poem that might have…I guess…" he couldn't help severely blushing as he tried to continue, "…that might have had some stuff in it that, um, came from me thinking about you…I _mean_ thinking about some things between you and me... And how…how everyone else might have figured that out…the parts about you, I mean…" He finally mustered up enough courage to look at Helga again.

The look that Arnold found on her face caused him to raise an eyebrow in curiosity, which was ironic since that's exactly what Helga was doing just then. She wasn't scowling or seething: she was just looking at him like she couldn't understand something about what he was saying.

"What?" Arnold asked with a tinge of nervousness to his voice. He felt his heartbeat increase slightly. '_What did I do now_?'

Helga bit the bottom of her lip and hesitated. The way he had stuttered and looked away from her blushing like that, the way he had seemed almost shy talking about writing about her, and the way he had described her inspiring him… He reminded her of, well, herself when it came to Arnold: granted, a less dramatic and monologue-prone version of herself, but herself nonetheless. ' _'There's only one explanation…my man Arnold is in love with you…' Oh, shut UP, Gerald!'_ she screamed mentally as his words resounded in her head yet again since he had said them.

Helga opened her mouth, considered, and then closed it. She lost the curious gaze and rubbed her temples for a second. "Never mind. Look, Arnold," she started in a very calm voice, her eyes shut, "just…just don't do something like that again. No more poems about me, okay? Pretend I'm not even here: I'm just the fourth grade bully as usual—nothing else." She reached for the door handle, more than ready to let them both out now so that they could finally resume their normal lives and social roles.

Her eyes naturally flew open wide at the sound of the word "No," which came calmly and quietly from the ten-year-old boy behind her.

"What?" was all she could think to ask in a genuinely stunned voice as she turned to face him.

Arnold swallowed hard and did his best to look her straight in the eye. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, Helga, then I can't do anything about that." He approached her. "But if you're still allowed to think and write about me then…" his gaze faltered away from hers for a second, but he quickly resumed looking her full in the face, "then why shouldn't _I_ still be allowed to think and write about _you_?"

Helga blinked in surprise at the argument: Arnold was always so compliant to her demands and for the first time she could recall (except, perhaps, during the FTi incident when he had refused to believe the initial excuses she had given him for her being Deep Voice) he was seriously challenging her final word on something.

Suddenly, she could feel her anger returning, and she replied with a scowl and an edge to her voice, "Three reasons bucko!" Helga counted them off on her fingers. "Because I know how to write a poem without making it _completely_ obvious who it's about, because I don't make it so that you have to spend the next few weeks doing severe damage control to your reputation, and most importantly, _Arnold_—because I don't _suck_ at keeping _secrets_!"

Arnold couldn't help rolling his eyes at this last statement and muttering to himself under his breath. "Yeah, then how come at least four people in our class know everything, including me?"

Unfortunately for Arnold, the broom closet was small enough and quiet enough that Helga heard everything. Fortunately for him, though, she chose to respond with sarcasm rather than more attempts at violence.

Helga rested her right arm in the palm of her left hand and put her right hand to her chin as though in deep thought. "Well, let's see…" she began with a false smile and overly pleasant voice, "my best friend figured it out all on her own, your ex-girlfriend blackmailed me, Gerald apparently finds out _everything_ going on in this town one way or another, and hmm…" She looked upward as though really trying to remember who remained to be mentioned. "Oh, yes, and maybe, just _maybe_, YOU know because of that little rooftop interrogation where you couldn't take an excuse as an answer!" She shoved a finger in his face, glaring.

Arnold raised a skeptical eyebrow, a look of annoyance on his face. "You were on a building in a trench coat with a voice box and you'd been spying on me for the last twenty-four hours—I think I deserved an explanation!"

"And I gave you THREE good ones!" She threw her hands in the air. "But _NO_, you needed the TRUTH!"

He raised an eyebrow, put a hand on his hip, and quoted the reasons she had given so long ago, counting them on his fingers just as she had done with her reasons for him to stop writing about her. " 'No reason,' 'It's my civic duty', 'I love a good mystery?' " He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, why didn't I buy any of those?"

"Honestly, Arnold, I don't know! You've believed much less likely stuff during much crazier situations in the past." Helga was basically on argument autopilot at this point and the comeback had left her mouth before she could really think about it. Realizing what she had just said, though, her eyes widened and she closed her mouth.

Arnold didn't respond at first but just stood there with a face that was a mixture of angry and pensive. '_Why __did__ I keep pushing her for a reason on the roof? I mean, I only had two minutes to meet Gerald, and it wasn't like the excuses she gave me were __completely__ unbelievable… Why did I care so much about knowing why she did it?_'

Suddenly, the last line of her last response really hit him and his train of thought changed entirely. He looked at her. "Wait, what do you mean I've 'believed much less likely stuff during much crazier situations in the past?' What 'stuff,' what 'situations?' "

Helga could feel herself blushing. "Look, we're…uh, we're getting off topic!" She tried in vain to return some of the anger to her voice and threw in a weak scowl. "The reason we're here is that you shouldn't have handed in that poem and you are NOT going to be handing in any more!"

Arnold, however, was putting some things together in his mind. "You've lied to me before, haven't you?" He took a step toward her.

Helga tried to ignore him. "Using that poem as your homework was stupid and unnecessary, and it wasn't exactly the fairest thing to _me_—I mean, what part of 'goodbye' didn't you get, yesterday?"

Arnold took another step closer. "Deep Voice wasn't the first time you've done something that I didn't know about… You've been doing other things all this time too, haven't you?"

Helga took another step away from him and suddenly felt herself trip over a mop and fall backwards, similar to how she had tripped and fallen when Arnold had approached her on the roof of FTi. The déjà vous made her heart race, but she tried to continue her argument. "You're just lucky that Simmons thought to say it was by Anonymous even though you probably didn't know to tell him to…"

Arnold continued approaching her, feeling like he was realizing something very important but still lacking some specifics to put it all together. "The fire escape, the school play… There's been other times you've done stuff for me or to me in secret..." He took yet another step closer to the frightened girl. "How _did_ you know about that broken window pane in my room, again, Helga…and about how Curly managed to escape from behind my couch?"

Helga tugged at her collar and glanced away from him. "Uh, you know, speaking of Curly, maybe just to be safe I'll start a rumor that he wrote that poem about Rhonda…It's a long shot but—"

"Helga, ENOUGH!" Arnold suddenly blurted out.

"Huh?!?!" Helga looked completely frazzled at this point, sitting on the floor, holding a mop, blushing and fighting a losing battle to bring the conversation back to Arnold's poem.

BANG!

"AH!!!" Helga yelled. Her eyes shifted fearfully away from Arnold to the door, against which something had definitely just hit: hard. '_It's okay, it's okay… It's just Gerald and Phoebe still trying to get in here. Just take a deep breath…_'

"Helga," Arnold hadn't even glanced at the door, "forget about Gerald and Phoebe for a minute. This is about us." He knelt down beside her, reached his hand forward and slowly turned her face away from the door and back to looking into her eyes.

The resumed stare between them continued in silence for several moments. Helga could feel her heart pounding in her chest. '_If the next thing out of his mouth has anything to do with the words 'parrot' 'locket' or 'Valentine's Day'_ ' she thought to herself, her stomach twisting in knots, '_then forget P.S. 119--I'm going back to Alaska with Olga on the next flight!!!_'

Arnold took a deep breath and Helga noticed that there appeared to be almost a touch of hurt in his searching eyes. "Helga, why don't you just tell me the truth, for once?"

Helga couldn't breathe. She pushed herself back as far as she could to increase the distance between them but all she succeeded in doing was pushing herself even harder against the wall. Her shifting caused the head of the mop now laying across her lap to knock into a bottle of cleaner which fell on the floor and began to spill out near Arnold's feet. The slick substance caused Arnold, whose entire focus had been on Helga and who was already leaning over her, to suddenly lose his balance. "Whoa—oh!"

There was a crash.

* * *

Meanwhile, out in the hallway…

"Hold on, hold on…" Gerald was trying his best to break the lock of the janitor's closet door handle—an act which he had actually been attempting for the last ten minutes while Arnold and Helga had been having their little 'love fest.'

"Okay, I think I've almost…WHOA!!!" Gerald had put all of his strength into turning the stiff handle of the wooden door. However, the lock _wasn't_ budging and thus his hands slipped forward, leaving the door still shut tight and now himself sprawled on the floor of the hallway.

Phoebe approached him with concern. "Gerald, are you okay?"

Gerald stood up, flexing his stiff fingers. "Yeah, I'm fine. But things have gotten quiet in there and I'm starting to get worried." He glanced at the door. "I just wish I could get in there for five seconds to make sure Arnold's okay…"

Phoebe turned from Gerald to the locked door handle in question and gave it a scrutinizing look. She then glanced from side to side and, seeing that the hallway appeared deserted for now, placed her backpack on the floor and took a few steps back. "Gerald, will you please step to the side for a moment?" She gestured to the left with her head.

Gerald blinked in surprise at the request but did as he was told.

He watched with curiosity as Phoebe closed her eyes and took a deep, relaxing breath. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and looked to the door handle. "_Rin, pyou, tou, sha, kai, jin, retsu, zai, zen!" _ She shouted these words and raced toward the door, landing her right hand firmly and horizontally against the handle. A second passed and then suddenly it fell to the ground with a dull clunk.

Gerald just raised a baffled eyebrow at the young girl before him who had recomposed herself just as suddenly as she had gone into this strange attack. "What the _heck_ was _THAT_?" he asked in a noticeably high-pitched voice.

Phoebe recalled, suddenly, that he was indeed in the hallway with her, and blushed considerably. "Well, I didn't want to do have to resort to breaking the door handle because it's school property, but, since Arnold and Helga are our best friends, I determined that doing so outweighed leaving them alone in there for much longer." She smiled.

Gerald still looked at her in utter perplexity. "But _where_ did that _come_ from? I mean, how did you learn to do it?"

Phoebe cleared her throat and glanced away. "I practice several types of self-defense and meditation in my home with my father and mother. Up until recently we were focusing on fencing but, with fourth grade ending soon, my father decided I should start learning the specialized meditation forms of Kuji-in and Ninjutsu, which involve attacks like the one I just demonstrated." Phoebe glanced back at Gerald with a look of uncertainty as she awaited his response. "I know it probably seems a little strange…"

A large smile came to Gerald's face. "Strange? That was…AWESOME!!!" He ran right up to her. "Man, you need to teach _me_ to do that! I'd never have to be afraid of Helga or anyone beating the stuffing out of me _ever again_!"

Phoebe smiled happily and giggled. "Of course, Gerald." She blushed slightly and gestured back to the janitor's closet door with her head. "But right now I think we should resume our task of assisting Arnold and Helga with their current situation."

Gerald couldn't help but blush as he realized he had been getting slightly carried away. "Oh, uh, right, right…" He turned to the janitor's closet door as well, now, and swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and put his hand against the wood. "Well, here it goes…" The sound of a crash inside made him hesitate for a moment and shake his head. "It's gonna be a long adolescence, isn't it?" he couldn't help but add under his breath. And with that he gave the door a gentle push inwards.

"AHH!!!"

"AHH!!!"

"AHH!!! Oh, for the love of—what is _wrong_ with you guys?! We are _ten_-years-old, for crying out loud!"

The bright light of the hallway entering the closet had surprised the two blonde fourth graders who had been so wrapped up in their tête-à-tête that they had forgotten briefly about the outside world.

Likewise, Gerald had been surprised…though _his_ shock came from the sight that had met his eyes upon peeking inside the closet. He had expected to see his friends at each other's throats, as usual. He had even been prepared for them to be in a serious physical altercation. Heck, he wouldn't have been very surprised if they had been about to kiss again! But he hadn't exactly been prepared for this… In addition, not being aware of the circumstance of the slippery cleaning fluid didn't exactly add to his understanding of the reality of the scene.

Helga was all but lying on the floor, her head propped up a bit by a bucket and some other cliché cleaning items behind her. And Arnold, who had been kneeling over her before slipping forward, was now lying on top of her. Both of them had wide eyes and both of their faces were very close.

Helga looked to Gerald who seemed frozen on the spot, his head just peeking into the room.

"Gerald, what's—" At the sound of the yells, Phoebe had approached to glance inside the closet as well. Her eyes went wide as she finally saw the position that her best friend and Arnold were in. Not even finishing her sentence, she just sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes underneath her glasses.

A second passed and then Helga scowled darkly at the two children who seemed to have no intention of stopping their little interruption of her and Arnold's current conversation. "Not! _Now_!" she spat at Gerald and Phoebe, and with that she managed to reach her foot to the side and kick the door closed right in their faces.

In the hallway, Gerald and Phoebe just looked at each other for a few moments. Finally, Gerald turned away from the closet door and propped himself against the lockers on the left side. He slid down to the floor so that he was sitting. "So…since it doesn't look like there's any bloodshed to speak of, should we just wait out here for them to figure things out?"

Phoebe sighed and leaned against the lockers on the right side of the door, mimicking his descent to the floor. "I suppose that would be best, Gerald."

A moment of silence passed between the two fourth graders. Gerald took a breath and turned to Phoebe. "Hey, Phoebe?"

"Yes, Gerald?" She turned to him.

"Just so I know what I'm getting myself into… Have you been having to do stuff like this all the time...you know, since you've known about this whole Helga/Arnold thing for a while? I mean, is keeping this 'secret' in check gonna end up being a full time job for me like it is right now, or is there ever any downtime?"

Phoebe considered for a second, then smiled to herself. She removed her glasses and began cleaning one of the lenses with the end of her sweater. "I've assisted Helga with whatever she's needed in regards to a lot of things over the years, including 'ice cre—uh, Arnold." Gerald raised an eyebrow at this seemingly random slip up, but Phoebe just cleared her throat and continued. "Anyway, it can require a lot of…patience. Usually, though, she seems to try to handle anything that might come up on her own." She put her glasses back on and turned to Gerald. "However, from what I've been observing, it seems that a great deal of the work you and I as well as Lila have been having to do over the last three days has come from the fact that Arnold not only knows of Helga's feelings but does not want to keep them a secret anymore…at least, not between them. This, of course, is conflicting with Helga's mission to hide her feelings at all costs from everyone…especially Arnold."

"So, what you're saying is…this is my life from now on?"

"Until they can reach some kind of compromise, precisely." She smiled at him.

Gerald sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

There was another moment of silence.

"Gerald?"

"Yeah?" He turned to Phoebe, who was looking ahead now.

She hesitated and then asked in a quiet voice, "Do you truly believe what you told me before about Arnold's feelings for Helga?"

"You mean, that he loves her." Gerald considered for a moment. "Phoebe, I've known that boy for seven years now and I know when he's got something for a girl." He hesitated a second. "It _is_ a little weirder this time, though—I'll give you that…"

Phoebe glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Gerald furrowed his brow, "Usually he jumps all over it when he finds a girl he likes. He fell head over heels for Ruth McDougal the first day he saw her, it took a weekend of Lila hanging around him for him to practically become her slave, heck, he was even obsessed with that substitute teacher we had for a week, Ms. Felter… but he's fighting against this 'liking Helga' thing like the plague. He wants to spend all his time with her, he kissed her, he's writing poems about her, but he flat out insists that he _does not_ love Helga." He turned to Phoebe. "But he does! He has to! I mean, he might not want to _marry_ her but, come on, he at least likes her-likes her! I just don't get it…" He scratched his head. "I mean, she's not my 'favorite person' or anything, but admitting that he feels _something_ about her has got to be better than the two of them running around, nearly killing each other and almost blowing this whole thing in front of the entire class!"

Gerald looked to Phoebe almost like he was suddenly expecting a real explanation from her for all of this insanity. After all, she was the smartest girl in school—certainly, if anyone could figure it out, it was her, right?

Phoebe hesitated. "Gerald, do you think it's possible that perhaps he does not want to admit to himself that he cares for Helga because of the fact that he already knows that Helga cares for him? That he's afraid of having feelings for someone who would readily reciprocate those feelings? Perhaps he is unsure of how to handle that type of situation." Gerald couldn't help but notice a red tinge come to Phoebe's face. She quickly glanced away from him before continuing. "Something like that can be… awkward…especially since we—since they are only ten. What I'm trying to say is, perhaps at least part of his hesitation is stemming from the fact that he does not want to be in love with Helga because is afraid of how that might change things between them."

Gerald hadn't been able to help blushing at her change of 'we' to 'they' in her penultimate sentence. He cleared his throat and glanced away. "I never really thought about it like that. You might be right, though… None of the girls he's ever liked have ever liked him back. At least, not at the same time. I guess it would be kind of weird for him to think about changing the relationship he has with Helga right now so much…even if he kind of wants to deep down." He turned to Phoebe again and smiled. "You know, I'm really glad you're here helping me with all of this, Phoebe. You're really smart about this stuff."

Phoebe swallowed hard and smiled back at Gerald. "Thank you, Gerald. I…I feel very fortunate that you are here, as well. It's nice to have some company for once."

The two ten-year-olds remained smiling at each other for a couple more seconds. Suddenly, they both blinked and glanced away from each other, clearing their throats awkwardly.

A moment passed and then Gerald sighed to himself and leaned his head back against the lockers. His eyes were closed and a slight smile was on his face. "You know, I always knew Helga G. Pataki would kill me one day…I just didn't think she'd do it by having me be her _matchmaker_."

"Actually, I was always quite certain that that would be how she would kill _me_," replied Phoebe with a sigh.

Both ten-year-olds looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

Suddenly, Gerald's face fell and he appeared to be staring at something.

Phoebe tried to get her laughter under control, and looked at him with a touch of concern. "Gerald, what is it?"

"Hey, it's Gerald and Phoebe!"

"Yeah! Hey, guys, what are you doin' by the janitor's closet?"

"Phoebe, have you seen Helga anywhere—I want to get to the bottom of this whole thing as soon as possible. The school paper goes to print tomorrow and there'll be no excuse if I don't have something about this whole poem situation in my column."

Phoebe's face fell as well. She turned with a stunned expression to see the remainder of Mr. Simmons' fourth grade class walking up the hall behind her.

She whipped back around to Gerald. "Gerald, what should we do?!" she asked in a panicked whisper.

Gerald took a deep breath and stood up. "Hey, guys—what's up? We're still on for baseball practice at four today, right?" he called out to the other kids with a smooth smile.

He reached out a hand to help Phoebe up, which she took. "We stall," he whispered to her, "…and hope that somehow Arnold and Helga can figure out a way out of this one."

* * *

Meanwhile back in the closet…

As Helga kicked shut the closet door after her exclamation at Gerald and Phoebe, she turned back with a scowl to face Arnold. However, her anger both at him and at being interrupted was checked a bit by her awareness of their proximity and the feeling of his weight on her body. She blinked and could feel her breaths coming quite shallowly.

Finally, she managed to say something. It wasn't sarcastic or biting, though, but rather an observation…and something she found rather interesting. "You know, you're still on top of me, Arnold."

Arnold blinked, the shock of the moment finally leaving him, and he began to push himself off of her. He finally stood, dusting himself off and refusing to make eye contact with her, a blush on his face. Always being a gentleman, though, he did reach out his hand to help Helga up, which she took without the usual sarcastic and defensive hesitation. Her face betrayed no emotion as she brushed herself off as well, making sure none of the spilled cleaning fluid had stained her jumper. Helga took a step forward to finally get herself away from the wall against which she had managed to trap herself. However, doing so caused her to slip on said soapy substance and right into Arnold, who caught her under the arms with his own strong ones, holding her around the waist.

Helga was incredibly caught off guard by the look she found on his face. He seemed surprised, as would be expected upon finding their bodies together again, but at the same time those wide green eyes were suddenly scrutinizing her own blue ones…like he was trying to figure something out. And, though she already knew that he knew her secret, something about that look made her uneasy—like he was getting to a truth deeper than that…

Helga realized that she had all but stopped breathing at suddenly finding herself pressed against Arnold again. Aware that she needed to get out of this position before she collapsed entirely, Helga managed to get her feet under her and to push herself away from him. She crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively, her eyes wide and avoiding his as she stared down and to her right.

"Arnold," she started in a very calm voice, her eyes shut, "Just…just don't do something like this again. You wanna write whatever it is you wanna write about me? Fine. But no more personalized homework assignments handed in to Simmons so he can read them out loud and ruin my life: that's all I'm asking, Football Head. Just give me that and then maybe we can finally get on with our lives." She reached for the door handle, more than ready to let them both out so that they could finally be done with this last heart-to-heart conversation and so she could go home and sulk in front of her Arnold shrine, as she had done for the better part of last night.

Her hand rested on the interior handle for a moment, but before she could turn it she felt a warmth come over her slightly bruised knuckles and found Arnold's palm resting there. She looked to his face, about to tell him to just give it up already…but he wasn't making eye contact with her.

She raised an eyebrow but before she could say anything he cut her off. "That's not what you want Helga…I know that's not what you want." His voice was very level and almost listless.

Helga, never liking being told what to do, scowled and pulled her hand away quickly. "Well, you've just got it all figured out, don't you, Football Head? Mind telling me _what_ it is I 'really want,' exactly, or has that not come to you, yet?" she replied defensively.

Arnold looked at Helga and took a step closer to her so that he was near her face again, effectively catching her off guard. "You want me to say that…" He hesitated, though… Suddenly, his eyes took on a serious scowl. He grabbed one of Helga's wrists and turned away from her and toward the door, putting his free hand on the handle. "That is it! Come on, I'm not doing this in the closet!"

He was about to push the door open when he felt Helga pull him back, a terrified look on her face. "Helga, wha—"

"SHHH!!!" she hissed, panic evident in her eyes. Just the pressure of Arnold's hand against the door had caused it to open a bit thanks to Phoebe having broken the outside handle and, thus, the lock. He watched as Helga did her best to peek out of the small crack of space and into the hallway.

Suddenly, Arnold's face fell as he finally heard what she must have heard: voices. And _not_ Gerald and Phoebe's voices.

Helga pulled the door closed as subtly as possible so as not to attract the attention of whoever might be out there. She spun around and looked at Arnold, her eyes wide. "It's EVERYONE!" she whispered with fright.

"Everyone?!" he whispered back, still a bit in shock.

She lunged forward and grabbed him by the shirt collar with her two hands. "The whole class! ALL of them! They're out there!!!" Her voice was so high-pitched now that it was practically a squeak.

* * *

Meanwhile, out in the hallway…

"Hey, aren't you guys gonna miss the bus? It's has to be past three, already…" Gerald asked as nonchalantly as possible to the large group of students standing before him.

He cleared his throat and glanced at Phoebe. However, the young girl was still feeling a little overwhelmed by the situation, and thus didn't speak right away. He cleared his throat more loudly to get her attention. "Huh?" She blinked. "Oh, uh…yes—the buses. Certainly they must be here by now." She tried to smile at her classmates.

Rhonda raised an eyebrow at them and put her hands on her hips. "Uh, guys—it's already 3:15," she jerked her thumb in the direction of a wall clock behind them. "The three o'clock buses came and went a long time ago. We're all going to take the 3:30 ones instead. What are you two doing here, anyway?"

Gerald was feeling a little nervous, but he scowled slightly and tried his best to put _her_ on the defensive instead. "We're just…hanging out. What are _you_ _all_ still doing here? You can't tell me you all missed your rides home just because of this whole crazy 'poem' thing? Seriously, didn't we all come to a truce yesterday with Helga after she helped us with the poetry homework?"

The other kids glanced down to the floor and began to guiltily mumble affirmative responses.

Gerald smiled. '_Hey, maybe this'll actually work…_' He glanced at Phoebe who had a hopeful look as well.

Suddenly, Lila broke through the crowd. She appeared a little winded, almost as though she had been running after the group of kids for a while. She took a breath and spoke. "I'm ever so sure that that's what I've been trying to say to you all for the last fifteen minutes… Wouldn't it be better if we just left Arnold and Helga alone?"

It took about a second of really processing what Lila had just said for Gerald to feel the blood drain from his face.

"OH!" Lila put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.

Gerald's smile instantly disappeared. He looked at Lila and then at Phoebe (who looked equally surprised) and then at the other kids.

"Wait, what about Arnold?" Rhonda asked with confusion.

The other kids looked equally surprised. They glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, and whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Rhonda turned back to Gerald, Phoebe and Lila. "Who said anything about Arnold, Lila?"

Lila didn't speak. She couldn't believe the mistake she'd just made.

Rhonda turned back to the other kids and began to look amongst them almost like she was searching for someone. "Wasn't Arnold right behind us?"

The kids looked around.

"Boy howdy, I thought he was here…"

"I don't reckon I've seen him since before the bell rang…"

"Well, I just assumed he'd be following you guys too. Not joining in when the whole class is doing something and there's a big piece of gossip involved seems pretty uncool."

"Well, if he was, Rhonda, he's not here now…" Nadine stepped forward. "Do you want me to go back and look for him? Maybe he went to the bathroom or something?"

"Oh, Rhonda, my sweet—you're hair is just so—" Curly grabbed one of Rhonda's tresses.

"UGH!!! Curly I told you—ten foot minimum distance when we're in school!"

"Come to think of it," began Sheena slowly, not paying attention to the small altercation between Rhonda and Curly, "the last time I saw Arnold was when I was about to ask him if he knew anything about the poem, but then Helga came in and I forgot to."

Silence. Then, much to Gerald, Phoebe and Lila's horrors, a touch of realization instantly flashed into the eyes of the students before them.

Rhonda turned around. "Gerald…he didn't…" It seemed like she was trying to hold back a laugh. "…I mean, he doesn't…"

"Rhonda," Gerald started, very seriously, "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm sure he probably just went home or something because he was getting sick of you guys still going after Helga even after all that stuff this weekend. Now, come on—like you said, the late buses come at 3:30 so let's just get outside and get on them and go home."

He began to walk forward.

"You know…Arnold _was_ pretty intent on defending Helga all this weekend…" Rhonda thought out loud to herself.

There were a few murmurs of assent.

"I mean, studying alone together in his room, making us wait around to apologize to her, sitting next to her and smiling at her all yesterday evening…" She glanced back at the crowd.

The murmurs of assent continued.

Rhonda instantly turned to a still petrified Lila, a cunning look on her face. "Lila, you seem to know something about this—what exactly IS going on with Arnold and Helga?"

"Oh, well, I…like you said, Rhonda, Arnold's been such a good friend to Helga lately that I-I'm ever so sure that I must have just said their names together without thinking. Heh, Heh…" She smiled as innocently as she could.

"Yes, Rhonda—a perfectly understandable verbal slip." Phoebe stepped forward, smiling. "Now, like Gerald said, the buses are coming back soon and the school's almost empty now, so we should probably return to our homes as well." She walked forward to where Gerald was standing, pulling a still shaky Lila with her.

Needless to say, the other kids seemed a little less than convinced.

Suddenly, Eugene spoke up with a very random question, much to everyone's surprises. "Hey, Rhonda, didn't you say the only person you saw in the bathroom when you were looking for Helga was the janitor?"

Rhonda turned to him with a look of curiosity. "Yeah…the janitor had just walked in and started cleaning. Why?"

Eugene pointed at the wooden door before them. "Well, I guess he must have forgotten to turn the light off in the janitor's closet." Rhonda looked at the frosted glass pane in the upper part of the door and blinked—the light glowed just faintly through its cloudy surface.

"Well, I guess we should turn it off for him." Eugene walked forward with a smile on his face but was stopped as Rhonda instantly held out an arm, barring the way.

"Just a minute, Eugene." She looked suspiciously to Gerald and Phoebe again. "Gerald, what exactly did you say you guys were doing here, again?"

Gerald scowled, but inside his confidence in getting them all to give up on Arnold and Helga was all but gone, and he swallowed hard. "Nothing," he responded as firmly as possible, "And I'm sure the janitor just left the light on by mistake and that the closet's probably locked anyway, so why don't we all just get something from the Jollie Ollie man and head over to Gerald Field for some practice before the whole day gets wasted standing around here coming up with crazy theories about Arnold and Helga?"

For a second, Gerald and Rhonda just stared each other down.

'_Come on…come on…_' Gerald thought calmly to himself, his face still firm.

"Nice try. Nadine, open the door."

"No!" Phoebe yelled, suddenly lunging forward and blocking the way.

A few seconds of silence passed as Phoebe just stood with her arms spread wide and a panicked look on her face. The other kids just stared at her in surprise, still several feet from the door.

Rhonda sighed. "Alright, whoever wants to get to the bottom of this one, follow me." She walked forward briskly, and the group of kids just shrugged at each other and slowly followed her en masse toward the door and away from Gerald, Phoebe and Lila.

Gerald instantly turned to Lila scowling. " 'Wouldn't it be better if we just left Arnold and Helga alone?' " he whispered mockingly.

"I couldn't help it!" she replied in a distressed voice. "You know, they're names do flow together just ever so well when you think about it!"

Gerald just sighed and rolled his eyes. "You know, I don't know if you're aware of this but the reason me and Phoebe are trying to keep them away from that closet is because they're both IN there!"

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry." She looked apologetically from him to Phoebe. "Oh…Helga's going to kill me!!!" She put a hand to her throat nervously, recalling that throat-wringing gesture Helga always when telling her to keep her secret or else.

Gerald rubbed his temples. "Well, come on guys, let's at least try and buy them a little more time—Maybe by some miracle they can…I don't know, hide or…or _something_."

Just as the other kids were lining up in front of the door, Gerald raced through them and slipped in front of it. His arms were crossed over his chest. Phoebe and Lila looked to each other and then followed slowly behind him, moving in amongst the crowd of other kids.

Gerald tried to sound as casual and smooth as possible as he spoke. "Okay, I don't know what you guys think you're going to find in here, but…" He hesitated, seemed to think for a second, and then looked back at the kids. "But if you really want to see what's inside…then…then I'll open the door. No problem." He smiled.

The other kids backed off a little at this compliant statement. Phoebe and Lila glanced at each other with concern. A second or two passed. Rhonda crossed her arms in front of her chest, tapping her foot. "_Well_?"

Gerald cleared his throat and grinned slightly. "Oh, you mean you wanted it open _right_ _now_?" He smiled and tried to fake a chuckle.

Rhonda rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yeah, 'now' would be good."

Gerald took a deep breath and turned around to the door in question. He was a bit unsure of himself, but he did at least have _some_ plan for trying to stall for Arnold and Helga. He recalled that, because of Phoebe's stunt with the handle, the door would open at a touch. As a result, he made the most convincing show he could of gripping said 'handle' (which, of course, was on the floor near the corner of the door and hidden thanks to the angle and how Gerald was standing) and trying to 'push' it open. It actually did give a little when he first touched it, and he instantly pulled back and hoped that no one had noticed.

He turned around and wiped some imaginary sweat from his brow. "Whew! Well, looks like it _is_ locked—won't budge. Now, come on, let's get to those busses alrea—"

"I don't know, it looked like it gave a little--maybe it's just stuck! Hey Harold, why don't you try?" Sid suddenly turned to the larger boy.

"Yeah, you're the strongest of all of us. You could probably get it open if it's just jammed!" added Stinky.

Rhonda smiled. "Perfect!" She turned back to Gerald. "Let's let Harold try."

Gerald blinked. "Um…uh…no, you know what?" He faked a smiled again. "I actually do think I felt it budge a little when I was pushing it. Let me try one more time." He faked a laugh. "Besides, I don't wanna get shown up or anything—I mean, my good looks and natural charm can only take me so far in life without some physical strength to back them up, you know."

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Oh, whatever--just get on with it!"

Gerald breathed a sigh of relief and pushed at the door once more. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed that it felt like something was now giving him a slight bit of resistance. '_Maybe they're trying to block it... Good, at least that means that they both know something's up out here._' He continued 'pushing' at the door: he felt it budge again (though much more slightly this time) and pulled back yet again. "Darn, almost had it that time!" He repeated the process. "OH…so close. Uh, just once more…"

10 minutes later…

"Okay, for REAL this time… I think I've got it!"

By this point the other kids were sitting together on the floor playing random games and trying not to fall asleep. Finally, though, Rhonda stood up, scowling. "Ugh, I can't _take it_ anymore, Gerald!" She walked right over to the door and bumped Gerald slightly out of the way so that she was in front of it too. "Just let Harold do it so we can—" Rhonda stopped as she suddenly saw the door completely head on…and something small and round on the floor…and the hole where a handle should be.

She turned to Gerald, her eyes narrowed. "Gerald…there's no handle on this door, is there?"

Phoebe and Lila instantly stood up. The other kids stopped their gossip and attempts at napping, and turned to Gerald and Rhonda with raised eyebrows.

"Uh…" Gerald rubbed the back of his neck. Finally, he sighed in defeat. "You got it."

"It's broken and on the floor, _isn't_ it?"

"Uh…yeah…that's technically true too…" He glanced down.

"So anyone should be able to just push this door open, _shouldn't_ they?"

"Uh…" He looked at her and tried to fake a smile again. "Oh boy, are _you_ gonna laugh when you hear the story behind this one… You see…"

Rhonda let out an angry growl and gave the door a firm shove…

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the closet…

Upon seeing that all of their classmates were indeed outside in the hallway, Helga had suddenly started pacing the closet (as best she could, at least, considering the amount of random stuff in there and the closed quarters they were dealing with). "This is it!" she began to whisper to herself hysterically. "They're going to find out! All of them are going to find out! My life is going to be over! _It's_ over! _Game_ over! They're going to know, and I'm going to be CRUCIFIED, and I'll never be able to show my face around here ever again! They'll destroy me, they'll eat me alive! It's all falling apart, it's all gone, gone, GO—"

"HELGA!!!" Arnold whispered loudly, suddenly grabbing her by the shoulders and scowling. "Snap out of it! It's going to be _fine_!"

She just continued staring at him, breathing heavily. At least her rant had stopped, though.

Arnold took a deep breath and did his best to talk to her as calmly as possible in hopes of further soothing her nerves. "Okay, Helga—listen: we're just going to go out there and explain this whole misunderstanding to them without telling them anything about your secret. Then we're going to—"

"NO!" She looked at him with terror in her eyes again. "No, Arnold, don't you get it?! They're not going to be understanding, they're not going to accept some flimsy excuse that lets me off the hook scott free, they're not going to put my feelings above a good laugh—they're not _you_!!! They'll eat me alive! They'll eat US alive!"

Arnold blinked. This was a level of 'scared Helga' that he had never encountered before. Certainly, he had seen her get jumpy whenever anyone got close to the truth about her feelings for him, he'd seen her lose that confident look that was always in her eyes just for a few seconds whenever someone presented her with some kind of new situation related to him that she wasn't quite sure how to handle, and he'd even seen her blush and plead and get angry whenever he tried to bring up the subject of her love for him. But this, right now, was total terror. And for the first time, Arnold genuinely understood WHY Helga didn't want to tell anybody her secret… It wasn't just because she was afraid of losing her tough reputation or because she didn't want people prying into her private life or even because she was worried that Arnold didn't love her back (a topic he had been about to bring up with her before this new development of their classmates suddenly showing up.) No—Helga was truly scared of the other kids; she was terrified of what they would do to her if they found out she loved Arnold…and (for right now, at least) she couldn't handle the drastic change in her life that would inevitably come from such a situation.

Arnold finally realized at that moment, looking into Helga's wide eyes, that, even though she always seemed confident and in control and like she was holding all the cards, there were things _she_ needed help with too. And right now she really needed him to bring out from hiding that confident person who was always somewhere inside of her and who could do anything, and to support her and assist her, because otherwise there was no way they were getting out of this mess.

Arnold took a deep breath and looked Helga in the eyes. "Helga…they're not going to eat you alive. Or me."

"Yes they ARE, Arnold! Yes they—"

Her panicked pleas were suddenly silenced as he put a hand over her mouth and smiled at her. "No, they're not…because we're not going to let them find out anything: no matter what. Okay?"

Helga didn't try to speak, but something in her eyes told Arnold that she suddenly felt like there was even a glimmer of hope for her salvation. Arnold cleared his throat. "Good." He removed his hand from her mouth. "Now, I think we can get out of this, but I need your help, Helga." He took a few steps around the closet, his hands behind his back like he was trying to think of a plan, and then looked back at Helga with his usual half-lidded gaze. "I want to get us out of here but I'm not as good at dealing with this stuff as you are. I know I don't know all the details and that, for now, at least, you don't _want_ me to know them, but…of the two of us, you're the one who knows how to keep this thing a secret the best. You've obviously done a lot of sneaking around and planning and a whole bunch of really creative and unimaginable stuff that I could never come up with in a million years to keep it all safe." He took a breath and closed his eyes, then opened them again, still focusing on Helga. He reached out and grabbed one of her hands. "So…I need for you to calm down so you can tell me what to do. I need the Helga Pataki who managed to spy on me for twenty four hours straight without me finding out so she could help me save the neighborhood last month; the one who convinced me that she was just taking a walk on my fire escape when I found her out there one night; the one who's been handing in poems about _me_ to Mr. Simmons all year and having them get read aloud without getting caught once." He noticed her eyes widen at this last observation, which he had figured out on his own out only a few minutes ago in the classroom. "I need you to tell me what you need me to do, Helga, so that we can keep keeping yo—_our_ secret." He corrected himself.

Helga just stared at him with an unreadable look, her eyes wide. The terror was definitely gone, though, and Arnold was at least thankful for that. Still, he wished she would speak so that he could be sure of whether or not his words had indeed gotten through to her. _'Please let this work… Please…'_ Arnold hated to admit it, but he truly had no idea how to get them out of this closet with Helga's secret intact if she couldn't come up with anything.

Suddenly, Arnold noticed that, though she continued to not move her body, Helga's eyes dropped slightly from looking into his own...almost like she was thinking of something. She bit her bottom lip. Her head suddenly turned slightly in the direction of the door and then she glanced upward for a second and then looked back at the door. She glanced up one more time and, with an index finger, seemed to be tracing something in the air. He watched as her eyes turned back downward again and then shifted in different directions a few times like she was calculating something. He noticed, just for a split second, the fear return to her eyes as the sounds of the voices outside picked up briefly. She blinked a few times, though, and managed to return to whatever thoughts she was having.

Arnold just watched in amazement_—'What did I just do, exactly?_' Indeed, to an extent, some of Arnold's pep talk had been a bit of a bluff—he still had no idea exactly how far Helga's efforts to keep her secret from him over the years had gone, or just how elaborate any plans or ruses she might have perpetuated might have been, except of course for the Deep Voice one (which had been pretty impressive, to say the least.) Still, somehow he was confident that she could do this: he believed in her.

Finally, Helga closed her eyes and took a deep breath, like she was centering herself in preparation for something. She opened her eyes and looked to Arnold. "Okay," she whispered, "I've got a plan. But you need to do EVERYTHING I say!" She put a hand to one of her temples and briefly shut her eyes. " And please just DON'T ask where I learned to do it from… not now, at least…"

Arnold nodded, a serious expression on his face.

Helga took another deep breath and smiled. "Good." She swallowed and briefly surveyed the random assortment of buckets and boxes and cleaning items around them. "Okay, we need to stack all this junk up as high as we can in a pile so that it reaches as close to the ceiling as possible."

Helga started grabbing some things and putting and pushing them together quickly and quietly. Arnold followed her example.

"AH!" Helga screamed just slightly as she heard the sound of something pushing against the closet door.

Arnold grabbed a few mops and brooms and quickly placed them across the door, propping them diagonally between the wall and the floor and making sure they at least somewhat secured the area around the broken handle. He turned back to Helga who was on top of the half-done pile and smiled, giving her a thumbs up.

Helga let out a very relieved sigh. She climbed down the pile and grabbed another bucket to put on it. She hesitated for a second, he noticed, and then she also grabbed a piece of rope hanging on a hook on the wall and put it over her right shoulder before ascending again. Arnold glanced around and grabbed a large box of detergent to stack on the top, then climbed up along with her.

A few more items (and a few more slightly terrifying pushes at the door) later, and Arnold and Helga found themselves breathing heavily beside a pile of assorted objects that reached about six feet off the floor (less than three feet from the ceiling).

Arnold looked to Helga, smiling and actually enjoying this sudden random adventure he was finding them in the middle of. "So…what do we do now?" he asked her.

Helga took a second to catch her breath, then put a hand on her hip. "Well, we climb it and do something that, ironically enough, I swore about twenty minutes ago I was never going to do again under any circumstances."

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm listening…"

Helga sighed, and he could see a slight blush come to her cheeks. "We go through the air vents…" There was definitely a bit of uncertainty in the way she said this next part of the plan. Yet, her tone, Arnold noticed, didn't make it sound like she was doubting the plan's effectiveness so much as she wasn't sure what Arnold was going to think about this whole thing.

Though Arnold had been having some fun with making the pile, he couldn't help but raise a skeptical eyebrow at this announcement. He did a quick up-and-down look at the rickety conglomeration of cleaning supplies and bric-a-brac that was supposed to take them up to the ceiling. He turned back to Helga. "Um, Helga…are you sure that's safe?"

Helga waved off his concern with an open palm. "Trust me, Arnold—I've done this before. The hardest part is just figuring out where you're going, and trying to avoid spiders. Or worse, _rats_." Helga shivered just slightly. She shook her head to clear it and continued. "But once we're up there we can get to another part of the school and then get the heck out of this nightmare before anyone sees us together. Piece of cake."

Arnold took a deep breath and then gave her a confident smile. "Okay…let's do this." He was about to start climbing up the pile when, suddenly, he felt Helga's hand grabbing his arm. He turned back to her, an eyebrow raised.

He noticed the blush in her cheeks darken slightly. She let him go and cleared her throat, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Um…before we 'do this' there's just two things, Arnold…" She cleared her throat and tried to resume her usual commanding look, but to little avail. "First, you should probably let me lead the way—I've done this before and, anyway, I've already been up there once today so at least there's a _chance_ I won't drop us into one of the detention class rooms or Wartz' office or an after school assembly or something."

Arnold nodded in agreement. "Okay, Helga. That makes sense." He smiled a half lidded gaze and gestured forward to the pile before them, similar to how he had gestured for her to go first down the stairs to lunch at the Boarding House on Saturday afternoon, which seemed like it was a lifetime away now.

He noticed, with a bit of confusion, that she wasn't moving forward, but, rather, glancing away from him almost shyly. Suddenly, he recalled that she had mentioned a second thing she had to tell him. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "What's the other thing, Helga?" he asked her in a kind voice.

She took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say…thank you, Arnold…" Suddenly, there was a noticeably strong push at the door and she gasped and turned wide-eyed to look at it. She remained frozen staring at it only for a second though, and then shook her head back and forth several times to clear it and focused on Arnold again. "And, I-I want to apologize in advance for what I'm about to do…especially if they get that door open in the next ten seconds…but—" There was another firm push and Arnold noticed just a touch of the fear come back. She blinked, though, and he saw with interest the normal Helga G. Pataki determination suddenly return in full force to her face. She looked him in the eyes. "Oh, to _heck_ with all of them—if I don't do it now I'm going to explode!"

Suddenly, she lunged forward, wrapped her arms almost violently around his body and, with what actually sounded to Arnold like a very faint squeal of delight, she pressed her lips against his and kissed him. Kissed him, Arnold noticed, not exactly as intensely as she had done on the FTi building, but with an emotion that she had definitely been lacking when she had pressed her mouth against his in order to steal back her poem the other evening.

Arnold, shocked, just blinked a few times as she continued kissing him. Interestingly enough, he found himself thinking of the conversation he'd had with his grandfather the previous evening during which he had admitted that he hadn't _not_ liked kissing Helga. Now, suddenly, with a few seconds to really analyze exactly how kissing her made him feel, he found himself puckering his lips back at her just slightly, just to make as good and strong a memory as he could of this moment so that he could get a clearer hold on his feelings when he thought about them later on.

The slight reciprocation was not lost on Helga, who suddenly opened her eyes wide in surprise. Suddenly, though, a solid push at the door dislodged several of the brooms and mops that were barring it, and Helga instantly broke away from Arnold and remembered that they needed to get out of there--NOW!!!

Helga just looked at him, breathing heavily for a second or two. "That…" she took a few more breaths, "was because all that stuff you just said to help me was the most _wonderful_ thing you or anyone else has ever done for me, Arnold. Ever. Even more wonderful than the poem, my lovely little..." She took another breath to calm herself down and did her best to stop the monologuing that wanted so desperately to start. She straightened up and cleared her throat, and then, with a determined look, commenced climbing the pile. Halfway there, she looked down at Arnold with a scowl and added, "But I _am_ still really mad at you about that poem and all this mess, Football Head. Don't think for a minute that we're square about that, yet, or anything! Now, come on—we've gotta get the heck out of here while I still half-believe we can actually pull this off!" She continued her ascent.

Arnold, meanwhile, had just been staring at her as she had climbed up and addressed him, breathing slightly heavily, himself. At the sight of her finally continuing to make her way to the top, though, he shook his head and began to climb as well. '_Well_,' he thought to himself as he made his way up, '_I'll say this for her—I may be a 'lousy kisser,'_ he recalled her words from yesterday afternoon during her first departure from the Boarding House,_ 'but if she's making me this out of breath when I don't even think I love her, then __she__ sure isn't._'

* * *

Meanwhile, out in the hallway (again)...

"Hey! What's _behind_ this door, exactly, anyway?" Rhonda's push had caused the door to give slightly, but it hadn't swung open like it should have considering the handle situation. She scratched her head. "Can one of you guys hel—"

"Oh, Rhonda, my sweet! Allow your strong Curly to assist you!" Curly suddenly ran straight for the door, plowing through the other students.

Rhonda's eyes opened wide. "Ugh, CURLY, don't—" She was in the middle of turning around to look at him when he slammed into the door and her, knocking them both into it and knocking the door wide open…

* * *

Meanwhile, in the closet...

Helga, standing atop the assortment of buckets, boxes and other items with the coil of rope still over her shoulder, clung onto the open air vent grate that had been hanging down ever since she had fallen from it into the closet several minutes ago. She climbed up it and managed to pull herself into the ducts. She caught her breath and noticed with another small yelp that the last few of the brooms and mops were falling away from the closet door as someone again tried to enter it.

She looked to Arnold desperately and held out her hand. "Come on, Football Head," she whispered as loudly as possible, "grab on and I'll pull you up!" Arnold reached up and Helga did indeed heave him into the air vent, though it was a little squished having _two_ fourth graders in there instead of the usual _one_. Making sure that Arnold was indeed safely inside the vent with her, Helga reached one of her feet back down into the closet and did her best to kick at the top of the pile of items they had used to climb up. It swayed unsteadily for a second or two and then, much to Helga's relief, collapsed just as she saw the light from the hallway flood the closet below them. She pulled up her leg and closed the grate quickly, her action obviously going unnoticed in all of the confusion.

"Alright, come on, Arnold—Let's go!" Helga wasn't whispering anymore—they were safe now and, besides, there was so much noise below that there was no way anyone could hear them. She commenced crawling to the left and Arnold followed behind her. As they went along, the two students hit a few turns and splits in the air vent system, but Arnold just followed dutifully as Helga led the way.

"Helga, why did you kick down the pile back there? What if we can't find another way out of here and had to use it to get down later?"

Helga sighed. "Arnold, Arnold, Arnold—if they open the door and there's a random assortment of junk all over the floor, they'll just see it as a normal janitor's closet and not think twice about it. If you leave the pile there, though, then it's going to look pretty suspicious to anyone with half a brain, and the last thing I need is one of those chuckleheads surprising me and putting together that someone was in there and that they snuck up into the air vents."

Arnold blinked, surprised at just how knowledgeable she was about this whole thing. "Hmm…I guess you're right…" he replied with a smile.

To be honest, even though Arnold knew that he should probably be terrified and even a little freaked about by what he was suddenly doing with Helga, he found himself strangely happy and even enjoying himself. He knew Helga had been through a lot over the years trying to keep things under control on the 'knowing' side of her love for him, but there also seemed to be a lot of fun involved in it all as well. _'Is this what I've been missing out on for seven years?_'

As they continued moving through the dark vents in silence with Helga occasionally making an exclamation of frustration as she caught her jumper on something or crawled right into a bunch of dust bunnies, Arnold couldn't help but grow more and more curious about her…

"Helga?" he finally got up the courage to call out after a minute or two had passed in their little journey through the air vents of P.S. 118.

Helga coughed to clear some dust from her throat. "What's up, head boy? Going too fast for you?" she asked in her usual voice with her usual tinge of sarcasm.

Arnold ducked to avoid a spider web, and responded with a bit of trepidation, "No…I was just wondering…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I know you said I shouldn't ask you where you learned how to do all this from but…" he coughed and cleared his throat, smiling, "…but one day I really wish you'd tell me. I mean, what's the weirdest thing you'd say—" he asked with genuine innocence, recalling once more the thing with his window and Curly getting out from behind his couch, "that you actually did learn how to do it by sneaking around the Boarding House, or something?"

Arnold slammed right into Helga who had stopped cold at this sentence. He righted himself again and rubbed his head, then looked at her, trying to see her face even though she was still facing away from him. He noticed her take a few quick breaths before she managed to respond in a noticeably high-pitched voice, "Um…why don't we go left up here. Yeah, that'll probably take us somewhere good. Come on, Football Head, let's get moving."

"Helga?" Arnold raised an eyebrow and couldn't help the half grin coming to his face at her obviously guilty reaction.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Arnold, what part of 'no questions' don't you get? Now, come on—let's GO!"

Arnold didn't exactly know why but, for some reason, Helga's implied confirmation of his guess that she had indeed been in the Boarding House a few times without his knowledge and had indeed used the air vents, among other things, to do so wasn't really making him uncomfortable. Perhaps it was a combination of all the new experiences he had had with her this weekend and the fact that his adrenaline rush was still going pretty strong from their near escape, but, actually, he couldn't help suddenly bursting into warm laughter as they crawled on.

He heard Helga sigh in exasperation as she led on. "Great, just great. I confess and, after a four week delayed reaction, you suddenly start putting all the pieces together in hyper drive. On top of which, now it looks like _I'm_ getting as bad at lying to _you_ as _you_ are at lying to _everyone_ _else_. And to make it even better, now you obviously realize that I am the WEIRDEST person on the planet! Just fantastic, Helga—just terrific! Maybe I _should_ have just let them open that door and find us in there—the final nail in the coffin, and then at least the only place everything could have gone would have been up."

Arnold was still laughing, though he was seriously trying to get it under control so that he wouldn't hurt Helga's feelings. He cleared his throat. "I-I'm sorry, Helga," he began, grinning, "but I don't think you're weird. To be honest," he brushed some more dust bunnies away, still grinning, "I think you're the bravest person I know."

He heard Helga sigh and could just make out her dragging a hand down her face as they plowed on. "Arnold, did those cleaner fumes clog your brain or something? I just ran in terror from half-a-dozen ten-year-olds because I was afraid they were going to laugh at me, and you think _I'm_ _brave_?"

Suddenly, they reached a section of the ventilation system that fanned out as it spread in several directions. Helga took a seat, panting quite a bit, to catch her breath and get her bearings.

Arnold sat down to collect himself, as well. He looked at Helga, who was covered in dust and cobwebs just like he realized he must be right now, and smiled. "I think it's brave that you'd care so much about someone that you'd risk the thing you're afraid of most just to help them or be near them. That's pretty special, Helga. I've cared about a lot of people before, but I've never done anything like that for any of them." He looked at her with that half-lidded gaze and couldn't help his grin widening just slightly at that familiar embarrassed look on her face: she was blushing considerably and looking at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

He did his best not to chuckle, and just shook his head as he got back on all fours again. "Come on, _I'll _lead--you've been having to clear away most of the dust and stuff, so let me do it for a while. Anyway, where I bring us is probably going to be as good as where you might bring us as long as it's away from that closet." He couldn't help but laugh aloud slightly as he picked a direction and crawled forward a bit. "Besides, this isn't the Boarding House ventilation system so it's not like you're an expert at navigating it, yet, or anything." He glanced at her with a smug look and winked before resuming his forward motion.

Helga dragged a hand down her face, feeling her cheeks go hot with blushing. Slowly, she got back on her hands and knees again as well, and began to follow behind Arnold. "You know…just for the record, it's not like I crawl through your house every waking second that I have free, or anything. I DO have a life outside of you, you know. I-I've only been through the vents there two, three, maybe four times at most, and those were all serious secret-keeping emergencies." Helga knew the humiliation damage had already been dealt, but she wanted to try and preserve at least _some_ of her dignity.

She heard Arnold laugh to himself again as he continued on ahead of her. "Well, next time you're in there, pop out from the ceiling or something and say 'hi'—I told you, yesterday, that I wanted to spend time with you…as long as that's what you want, of course…" he added delicately, which made Helga raise an eyebrow. "As long as you're in my house and I know your secret anyway," he continued in his former tone, after a second, "you might as well take a break to listen to some music and have some lunch again. And maybe you could tell me about some of those 'secret-keeping emergencies,' too." Helga went completely silent, unbelieving everything he was saying to her, and Arnold couldn't help occasionally laughing to himself as they continued to make their way through the school.

Finally, Arnold heard Helga sigh once more behind him. As she spoke, though, he had to raise an eyebrow in surprise—despite the drama in her tone it almost sounded like she was trying to hold back just a little bit of…laughter? "I just cannot believe that I'm actually on an 'Arnold-adventure' with Arnold. I mean, I've been convinced at least fifty times over the last three days that things in my life _could_ _not_ be more insane but something new just keeps coming along and proving me wrong. I really think this is hands down the _craziest_ thing, though—me pulling off one of my schemes with _you_ leading the way. You know, in theory, the need for me to be doing stuff like this should have ended when I confessed." He actually heard a slight chuckle escape her mouth. She sighed. "Football Head, you're never gonna quit driving me nuts no matter how much I try avoid this whole 'love' thing, are you?"

Arnold smiled at the rhetorical question and tried hard not to laugh. He turned to look back at her again. "Oh, come on, Helga--even if this weekend _has_ been a little crazy, you have to admit it's also been a lot of fun."

Helga shook her head. "Hey, I'm not passing judgment until I find out whether we actually pull this last stunt off or not. I'll start celebrating when I'm at my house, in my bed with a cold Yahoo soda and a couple of locked doors between me and the rest of the world. Believe me, Football Head, you start taking for granted that you're in the clear with stuff like this and then BAMN—Next thing you know, you're in a campfire lass sash rolling out into the middle of a—"

Helga stopped herself, eyes wide. '_Crimeny, Helga—what are you doing?! You kiss him and he says some cute things to you to be nice, and suddenly you're gushing about every embarrassing moment in your life like it's small talk? He already found out about how you got the lead in the school play, that all those poems Simmons reads in class are love poems by you, and that you've been in his house without his permission more than once. Why are you giving up more details?!?! I mean, you might as well drop the both of you back down into the hallway right now, pledge your love to him in front of everyone within earshot and then lead them all to your house for a free tour of your Arnold shrine!_'

Meanwhile, Arnold had noticed her sudden hesitation and turned his head back slightly to look at her. "What was that, Helga?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing, nothing…uh…" She tried to resume her usual attitude. "Look, Arnold, I'm glad I could clear some stuff up for you and that you're taking all this INCREDIBLY well, but can we stop 'deconstructing Helga' for a little while? It's starting to get on my nerves."

Arnold sighed and smiled, facing forward again. "Okay, no more 'secret' stuff, if that's what you really want, Helga."

Helga blinked. "Really?" she replied, unsurely. He sounded sincere, but this wouldn't be the first time Arnold had said he'd drop the topic of her confession only to find a way to continue pursuing it later. Still, he'd been so cooperative about the 'closet escape' thing that maybe he was actually serious. "Uh, thanks, Football Head," she added appreciatively.

Arnold hesitated, but then added, still smiling. "You know, Helga, we don't have to talk about this anymore right now, but I don't think you really mind talking to me about how you feel. In fact, I think you actually kind of like it even if it embarrasses you sometimes." Arnold blew at a cobweb to clear it away and then moved onward.

Helga rolled her eyes. '_Oh brother—I knew him just letting it go like that without trying to show me some kind of 'truth' about myself was too good to be true_.' "No, I don't, Arnold." She responded very firmly, with a scowl.

"I think you do…" he replied, just a little playfully.

"No, Arnold. Sadly, you are incorrect… It continues to somehow end up being the most horrible and humiliating experience of my life every single time," she replied stubbornly.

"Then why do you always act so much less angry and…I don't know, sweeter every time you talk to me about it?" Arnold was a little busy clearing away a big collection of dust, and wasn't really focusing too much on the question as he asked it.

He heard the sounds of Helga's crawling stop, and did his best to angle his head back around to see what the problem was. He smiled as he saw her stopped there, her eyes wide and blushing once again. "That's what I'm talking about, Helga—you get really quiet and nervous when you talk to me about it, and your voice sounds…well, I don't know, it just sounds nicer. I mean, it's kind of fun when you yell at me sometimes, too, but I think you must like the chance to act like the sweet and sensitive person that's deep down inside of you, just like you were being on the roof of the FTi building after you told me everything."

A second of silence passed. "Arnold…" Helga cleared her throat and refused to make eye contact with him. Her face still looked just like how he had just described her. "Can…can you stop for a little while…_please_?."

He raised an eyebrow. "You want to take another break?" he asked, referring to their current trek through the ceiling of P.S. 118.

Helga blushed furiously. "No…I-I mean… Can you stop saying things like that about me…for now."

"What things?" Arnold asked, genuinely unsure to what she was specifically referring.

"About how I…" she played with one of her pigtails, "…about how my voice sounds nice and…how you even like it when I yell and…and how I-I can be…s-sw-sw—"

"Sweet?" Arnold offered.

She swallowed hard. "Yeah, that…"

He could tell she was really nervous. He smiled warmly at her. "Okay, Helga. You're right—I said I'd stop and I should. I'm sorry if it embarrassed you or anything. But…well, it _is_ the truth, you know."

Helga took a deep breath and tried her best to scowl at Arnold. "Look, Arnold, you're the one who gave me that pep talk before about how you needed me to be my normal 'crafty and sneaky' self so that I could come up with something that could get both of us out of this mess. But…but when you keep saying all that stuff, I—well, it's just that I can't come up with what we should be doing next or the step after that or the step after that because you're—" She glanced away again in embarrassment at what she was about to admit. "When you're really nice to me and compliment me and smile..." a dreamy smile threatened to come to her face at these thoughts, but she stopped it and sighed. Finally, she managed to spit out the point she had been building up to: "When you do all that stuff—I can't exactly think straight, _okay_!" She glanced back at him warily, unsure of how he might respond to this confession. "That's…kind of why I did that thing back in the closet…the kiss thing…to relieve some of the tension, clear my head…you know?" She was avoiding eye contact again.

Arnold blushed warmly. He swallowed hard and felt his stomach twist. "Oh...yeah…" He cleared his throat and glanced back at her. "Sorry, Helga."

Helga took a deep breath and her usual face and scowl were back. "Don't worry about it, Football Head: nothing you haven't put me through before." She rolled her eyes and then resumed the ready position. "Now, come on," she gestured with her head to the end of the tunnel in which they were currently crawling, "I can see some light shining up from down there—maybe it's a place where we can finally get out. This place is starting to give me the creeps, anyway, and besides, I'm starving!" Helga's absence from class this morning had been mostly due to the fact that she'd basically spent the entire day in bed trying to regain her energy after her weekend's worth of ordeals with Arnold, even turning down another one of Olga's gourmet breakfasts for the chance to just rest in the solitude of her room and avoid the inevitability of seeing Arnold again when she finally did get up to go to school.

Arnold took a deep breath and turned facing forward again. "Okay, let's…" He didn't finish his sentence.

Helga raised an eyebrow at the strange tone in his voice and at the fact that he wasn't budging an inch.

"Arnold…are you okay…?" Helga asked in a genuinely concerned tone.

"Helga…just…just back up slowly to where we made that last turn, okay…" he replied slowly and with a definite nervous edge in his voice.

"Arnold, what's going on?" asked Helga, really worried by this point.

She heard him take a breath. "I don't think I should tell you… Just, go backwards. Please."

Helga gave an exasperated sigh and crawled forward so that she could look over his shoulder and see what the problem was. "Arnold, I swear, if this is because of some stupid spider or something, I'll squash it myself because I am _really_ in NO moo—" Helga's breath caught in her throat and her eyes went wide as she saw what Arnold was looking at.

"Rat." She managed to choke out in a cracked whisper. Instinctually, she gripped one of Arnold's hands with one of her own.

Arnold glanced at her, feeling the warmth of her palm resting against the back of his hand which was currently flat against the metal bottom of the vent to keep himself balanced. He was a little scared, to say the least, about the small, dark, yellow-eyed creature crawling around not more than five feet away from them, but he knew Helga was absolutely _terrified_ of rats. Maybe even more so than she was of the other kids right now.

"Helga…" He picked up his other hand and laid it atop the one of hers that was currently atop his other one. "Don't panic," he whispered into her ear.

The rat turned slightly in their direction and he heard a sharp intake of breath from Helga.

"We're just going to crawl backwards and try a different tunnel. Then we're going to get out of here and we'll…we'll get ice cream at Slausen's or something. And you'll never have to see another rat again. It'll be fine, Helga." He slowly tried to inch his way back, removing his second hand and using the one that she was so fiercely gripping to push her along backwards.

Slowly, he managed to get them back down the tunnel little by little. '_Okay, this is going to work out fine. Just a little bit more…just a little bit more…_' He glanced to Helga with concern, but her eyes were focused on the rat, unblinking.

Arnold glanced behind them and, with a sigh of relief, saw the corner they had turned in order to get to this segment of the vents slowly getting nearer and nearer. He glanced at the girl alongside him, though she was still staring at the rat in front of them, unblinking. "We're almost there, Helga," he whispered reassuringly to her.

_Squeak_!

Helga was still too focused on the sight of the small creature in front of her to have enough awareness to realize that this particular animal squeak, though indeed from a rat, had not come from the creature in front of them but from something behind them…

The case was different, however, for Arnold. His eyes widened and his head whipped around. Just beyond Helga he could make out in the dim light filtering through from the hallways and rooms below two more rats slowly approaching them.

He froze, and that made Helga freeze. She had noticed the movement of his head out of the corner of her eye and slowly, fearfully looked back as well…

"AHHHH!!!" Helga screamed at the top of her lungs. She glanced back and forth from the obstacle behind them to the obstacle in front of them. Utterly panicking, she tried to do what she normally did in situations when something frightened her and she was near Arnold, which was jumping into his arms. The two of them being in an air vent at the moment, this action didn't work as well as it usually did. There was the sound of metal creaking and shifting, and then chaos ensued.

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**A/N:**

Okay, that's all for right now! I hope you guys like how this is playing out :) And Arnold and Helga's adventure is far from over—they're going to be spending a lot more time together this afternoon figuring some things out and trying work out this mess with Arnold's poem… And then, of course, there are the epilogues ;) Like I said, I'll try and get the next update up within a couple of days followed by both epilogues at once. So, please review and stay tuned!!!

Thanks guys, and Happy Reading!!!

AXH FOREVER!!!

~Azure129 aka Jenna


	13. Ice Cream, and After?

**A/N:**

Okay, new game plan--I've actually decided to split this final segment of the story up as well, so now we have a chapter 13 and 14. Chapter 14 should be up in a few hours or tomorrow, but please note that Arnold's poem is indeed in this chapter :) Don't peek though--you'll ruin the whole ambiance I tried to set up and, besides, there's plenty of other stuff ready to entertain you while you wait, lol. Okay, have fun with Chapter 13 guys, and thanks to everyone who's reviewing!!!

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 13:**

**'Ice Cream' and After...?**

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"_We've got tomorrow, who needs yesterday? Because old tomorrow's always just a day away. Yes, old tomorrow's only just a day away!"_

This song played softly on a small, portable radio currently on the desk of Mr. Simmons, who had decided to listen to some music as he commenced grading assignments in his classroom this afternoon.

"And that was the classic 70s hit Tomorrow on K-MIX—a mixture of today's hits and yesterday's favorites." A DJ's voice announced as the song faded out. "Now, please stay tuned for a few words from our sponsors…"

Smiling, Mr. Simmons turned down the volume on the radio, and finished making a few marks on one of the pages in front of him. Then he placed it on top of a stack of several other papers, lifted up the stack and knocked against his desk to make sure it was neat and in order, and then finally placed it to the left to clear the space in front of him for the next batch of assignments to be graded.

_Creak_…

Mr. Simmons paused and looked around the empty classroom, an eyebrow raised. He was certain he had heard a very distinct creaking sound...almost like metal groaning slightly. He listened for a second, but the previous silence of the room, except for the gentle static of the radio, continued. He shrugged his shoulders and reached inside of his attaché case, pulling out a fresh pile of homework to review.

He had started grading one of the pages when all of a sudden…

"AHHH!!!"

He blinked and looked around again. He could have sworn he had heard a muffled cry come from _somewhere_. "What in the world…?"

He stood up and took a few paces around the room. '_Maybe it's one of the students in the hall…_' He was in the middle of approaching the classroom door to have a look outside when, suddenly, he heard an assortment of loud sounds that sounded like they were coming from…above him?! Indeed, there were some loud creaks of metal coming from the direction of the air vent and he saw, glancing upward, some of the ceiling panels near there shift dangerously.

His eyes widened at the sight. "Oh dear…"

He jumped back and got himself safely behind one of the student desks just in time. Suddenly, the ceiling near the vent appeared to cave in and he heard a loud crash.

"OW!"

"OW!"

Mr. Simmons stood up from behind the desk where he had positioned himself and coughed a few times, unable to open his eyes due to a significant cloud of dust that had suddenly flown up into the air.

Suddenly, though, two very familiar voices met his ears.

"Where are they?! _Where are they_?!"

"Helga, calm down. I don't see any of them. They're all still up in the air ducts. We're fine."

"Oh, why did it have to be _RATS_?! "

"Arnold, Helga...?" He coughed, and managed to get out in a very bewildered voice, "Wha-what you doing here?"

The sound of Mr. Simmons' very surprised voice brought Arnold and Helga out of their conversation and reminded them that they were indeed no longer safely alone in the air vents but, rather, had fallen somewhere potentially public.

They looked to each other and then looked around for the first time at their new surroundings. Helga stood up, dusting herself off with a relieved smile on her face. "Hey, we're back in the classroom. We're safe!" She coughed once more as her lungs cleared out the last of the dust currently inside of them, and then she turned back to Arnold. "Not bad for your first crazy scheme, Football Head."

Arnold smiled at her and couldn't help but chuckle at this last statement. He was very happy as well that landed somewhere away from the other kids. "Thanks, Helga." He brushed off some of the dust from his sweater and turned to their teacher. "Um, hi, Mr. Simmons. Sorry we crashed in here like that. We didn't know there were rats up there and I think we both kind of panicked a little."

Mr. Simmons ran forward to the children with a look of concern on his face. "Oh my…are you two hurt?" He glanced them over, trying to see if they had any cuts or seemed to be in pain.

"I'm fine, Mr. Simmons, just a little dusty, that's all." Arnold turned to Helga. "Are you okay, Helga?"

Helga gave herself a cursory check-over. "Yeah, nothing a hot bath and another day off school wouldn't fix." Suddenly, Helga noticed the long piece of rope she had been carrying with her from the closet now uncoiled at her feet. She sighed to herself and kicked it to the side. "Well, so much for using _that_ to help us."

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean?"

Helga crossed her arms over her chest and replied without thinking. "Well, duh, Football Head, how did you think we were going to get down from there since I had to destroy our way up? I was going to tie the rope to a grate or something so that we could climb down to the floor when we wanted to get out of there instead of falling on our butts..." She tossed the rope the floor. "But, it looks like _that_ plan's a bust…"

"Is there a story involving my house about how you learned to do _that_, too?" Arnold smiled at her and couldn't help a slight laugh escaping his mouth.

"Well ha-ha-ha, aren't you just _hilarious." _Helga rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest at this (shockingly accurate) comment, trying to play it off_. _"In case you forgot, Arnoldo, we still actually have to get _out_ of this school without being caught by anyone before we're totally in the clear. So, if you could save the witty observations until later, that would be just great." She put her hands on her hips and scowled at him.

Though she was trying to keep up a tough façade, Helga felt her stomach twist just for a second as she recalled scaling the side of the Boarding House a few months ago trying to get back her Arnold locket. Instinctively, she brushed a hand against her chest where it was safely hidden…

Suddenly, her eyes went wide and her heart felt like it had stopped. Instantly, a memory flashed through Helga's mind of taking her Arnold locket and tossing it on the floor in the closet…and not picking it up.

Arnold noticed the sudden change in her facial expression that went along with this realization, and looked at her with concern. "Helga…what is it?"

"My—" Suddenly, she looked from Arnold to Mr. Simmons and took a deep breath, swallowing hard. "Never mind…it's fine." '_The last thing I need is to fully bring Simmons into the 'Helga loves Arnold' loop too, and my luck's bound to run out soon with Arnold not freaking out about finding out all this stuff about me and my secret. Besides, I'm sure it's just pushed in a corner somewhere gathering dust under a hundred pounds of mops and bleach and carboard. I'll just get it later when this whole thing is finally over._'

As Helga had these thoughts, Arnold and Mr. Simmons just looked to each other with confusion and then back to Helga, though she, of course, didn't explain her strange behavior any further.

Finally, Mr. Simmons spoke up, genuine confusion apparent in his voice. "Helga, now, what were you and Arnold doing crawling around in the school's air vents?"

"It—it's a long story, Mr. Simmons…" She glanced away from him. "We were just…uh…well…you see it—"

Arnold sighed and stepped forward. "Actually, Mr. Simmons, it's all my fault."

"Arnold?" Mr. Simmons looked at him with surprise.

Arnold glanced away. "We were trying to get away from the other kids in the class. Actually, they're all probably still out in the hallway right now trying to find Helga. You see," he put his hands behind his back and looked up guiltily, "after you read my poem to the everyone, before, they all sort of figured out that it was about Helga, and, well, they were kind of giving her a hard time about it when you left. So, after the bell rang, she hid in the janitor's closet to get away from them, and then I was passing by and she figured the poem was probably by me so she, uh…so we decided to talk about it in the closet. But then everyone showed up in the hallway and Helga was afraid that they would tease her even more if they saw us together, so we figured that the only way to get out of there was to use the air vents to crawl around find a different way of leaving the school." He smiled up apologetically at his teacher. "We're sorry, Mr. Simmons, but it was the only way we could get out of there."

"Is that what happened, Helga?" Mr. Simmons looked at the girl with concern in his eyes at suddenly learning of her ordeal of the past half hour.

"More or less…" she replied, rubbing the back of her neck and glancing away. She couldn't help but be thankful to Arnold for describing the situation as accurately as he had while managing to keep out everything involving her secret.

Mr. Simmons sighed and shook his head. He glanced up at the vent out of which the kids had fallen. "Well, it doesn't look like there's any harm done…just a few panels shifted and the grate needs to be closed up." He stood on the desk that he had hidden behind and reached up, taking care of both of these chores.

He climbed back down and looked to the kids with a concerned face. "I'm very sorry that all this happened, Helga. It's very strange and…unexpected…" He walked back over to his desk and seemed to be rummaging for something in his attaché case. "I mean, most of _your_ special poems describe another person but there's never been a problem like this with any of them."

Helga just sighed and closed her eyes, dragging her hand down her face. She didn't even have to look at Arnold to know that he was smiling at her with that half-lidded gaze of his.

Mr. Simmons, meanwhile, suddenly pulled out a piece of paper that, Helga noticed, was written in a familiar shade of purple ink. "Yes, here we go—your most recent poem." Mr. Simmons glanced over the piece of paper and smiled. "Actually, I only just got a chance to read it but I wanted to mention to you that it reminds me a lot of your poems from the first part of the year. You've definitely undergone quite a stylistic change over the last month. Your writing's much more introspective and self-analyzing and it's almost got a hopeful quality… But before it was much more…exploratory and almost ode-like, and just a little regretful. It's an interesting shift."

Arnold raised an eyebrow at this observation and glanced at Helga who was looking at Mr. Simmons with just a touch of uneasiness in her eyes, like she didn't like where he was going with all of this. An interesting thought occurred to Arnold just then. '_I didn't realize Helga's poems now were different from what she's usually been writing… 'Introspective' and 'self-analyzing'…that really does sound like the poem of hers I read on Friday. And Mr. Simmons says they've been like that ever since about a month ago…?_' Arnold couldn't help but notice how well this observation lined up with the time line of her confession. He smiled to himself. '_Well, I'm just happy that I was able to see at least one thing she wrote about me. And it being about the confession really did help me get the courage to try and talk to her about everything this weekend.' _He mentally sighed. '_Still, it would be nice to read one of her older ones, too… 'ode-like?' They sound like they're probably really…beautiful._' Arnold couldn't help but suddenly regret that he had never paid much attention when Mr. Simmons had read those seemingly random love poems in class. _'And it's too bad Helga throws out all of the poems as soon as she gets them back, like she said on Friday_.' He sighed to himself. '_I wonder why the one she handed in today was so different, though?_'

While Arnold was having these thoughts, Mr. Simmons continued speaking to Helga. "I've been meaning to mention the change to you and ask about it. Actually," he nodded toward Arnold, "I was hoping that having you be Arnold's tutor this weekend might help you work out some things with your new style. You two have always been close, in a way, but around the time your poems changed it seemed like there was suddenly some kind distance between you—well, since the April Fools Dance, at least." Arnold came out of his thoughts and blinked, surprised that Mr. Simmons' observations fit so well with his own ideas on the subject.

"Really?" asked Helga in a surprised voice. She wasn't used to people figuring out how much Arnold could affect her moods and actions. She knew that the fact that Mr. Simmons had access to her poetry had probably helped him out but, still, it was kind of impressive, in a way.

The teacher nodded and continued. "Yes, Helga." He glanced down at the poem she had handed in just over a half hour ago. "I'm just surprised the effect was so strong and so sudden."

Arnold turned to Helga, eager to hear her explanation about this situation.

"Yeah, well…" Helga looked away from Mr. Simmons, her arms behind her back. "I might have written _that_ poem a few months ago…I would have written a new one for today but, with all the tutoring this weekend, I didn't have a lot of time to come up with anything."

Mr. Simmons' face fell slightly. "Oh, really?" He slipped the poem back with his other papers. He returned his gaze to Helga and smiled again. "Well, I guess I'll just have to wait until the next assignment to see your latest creation. I can understand your being too busy to come up with a new special poem, though, since you helped the entire class with the assignment—that was a pretty impressive special task for you to undertake, by the way, Helga. You've certainly got an A in participation now." He winked at her. "I'm sure I speak for all of your classmates when I say 'thank you.'"

Helga scoffed at this last statement and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Yeah, well, chasing me around the school and trying to interrogate me for the last half hour is a funny way for them to show it."

Mr. Simmons frowned again and leaned against his desk. "Yes, you're right. If this situation is as bad as you and Arnold say it is then we have to do something about it. Would you like me to talk to the class, tomorrow, Helga?"

Helga swallowed hard. "Uh, listen, Mr. Simmons…I appreciate that you want to help but I'm actually taking care of the situation right now in my own way with Arnold." She gestured to the ten-year-old boy beside her. "If we could just stay here for a little while longer until everyone in the hall's left, we'd really appreciate it." Her face was sincere, and there only remained in a voice a touch of the desperation that had been threatening to take her over ever since she'd walked into the classroom from her trip to the bathroom not long ago to see the entire 4th grade staring her down.

Mr. Simmons couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the way she asked the question: No demands or insults or rude remarks—just a polite, understandable request. He smiled at her. "Of course. I'm just going to be grading some papers—you both please feel free to stay here as long as you like."

Arnold smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Simmons."

Helga smiled too. "Yeah, thanks." She turned to Arnold. "What do you know, we might actually get out this, Football Head."

Arnold laughed. "I knew you could do it, Helga."

She laughed slightly and glanced away from him. "Yeah…" She looked back at him. "Thank you, Arnold…for everything."

It took a second but, suddenly, both kids were getting a very strange sense of déjà vous about this situation of Helga thanking Arnold for having confidence in her—or (how had she put it in the closet, exactly) doing 'the most wonderful thing you or anyone else has ever done for me, Arnold. Ever.'

They suddenly cleared their throats and blushed, turning away from each other.

Mr. Simmons eyed the children with a smile. "Well, I'm glad that this weekend at least allowed you two to work on your special friendship. It's nice to see you enjoying each other's company again." The kids blinked and looked wide-eyed to Mr. Simmons, feeling their blushing grow. The teacher just smiled and returned to his desk, pulling out the pile of papers he had been working on and recommencing his grading.

After a second or two of silence, Arnold cleared his throat and turned to Helga. "So…I guess we just wait, then?"

"Uh, yeah…" Helga replied, glancing away. "We just…wait…"

The ten-year-olds were about to walk to their desks out of habit, but it suddenly seemed strange to them to be the only two kids in the room and to sit so far apart. They looked to each other, and then Helga just shrugged and sat down on the floor on one side of the classroom door. Arnold followed her lead and sat down on the other side.

There was some more silence. Arnold found it strange how, just minutes before, they had been having one of their lengthiest conversations ever between the closet and the air vents, yet now it suddenly seemed like there was nothing to talk about. Perhaps it was the presence of Mr. Simmons, but Arnold couldn't help but feel like it was something else as well—like Helga had come so close to actually being completely open with him that she suddenly had to backtrack a bit to make up for it. She wasn't even looking at him, Arnold noticed out of the corner of his eye—instead, her gaze was focused on her hands and she was twiddling her thumbs nervously.

Arnold decided to at least try and resume some kind of conversation with her. '_After all, after this…_' He let the sentence hang. Arnold had decided, after listening to Gerald's advice and thinking it over and, of course, writing his poem, that he really _was_ going to try and respect Helga's wishes about their relationship. And if she was still intent on them staying as far away from each other as possible, then, even though he wouldn't like it, he would do his best to not interfere in her life. However, something she had said up in the ducts had given him just a little bit of hope that maybe she wanted to at least try something different. ' _'You're never gonna quit driving me nuts no matter how much I try avoid this whole 'love' thing, are you, Football Head?' _' Somehow, there seemed to be a kind of acceptance of his presence in her life in the way she'd asked him that question.

Arnold took a deep breath. "So…" he looked at Helga, "…how long do you think it'll be until they're all gone?"

Helga blinked, like Arnold was taking her out of some thoughts she had been having. She looked at him. "Oh, um…well," she glanced at the clock at the wall and then back to him, "it's 3:30 now, so if they get on the later buses they should all be out of here in five minutes. If they miss them, though, or just decide to stick around for a little while then I'm thinking we'll have to wait here for another twenty minutes, half hour at most. Baseball practice today is at four, and I don't think they'd miss that just for some stupid piece of gossip."

"Oh…" Arnold replied, looking forward again. "I guess you're right."

He glanced over at Helga once more and noticed that she was looking at her right hand and rubbing it slightly. "Is your fist okay, Helga? I mean, from the closet?"

She stopped rubbing it. "It got a little more banged up going through the vents but it's not broken or anything." She smiled at him. "I might be better as an umpire than a catcher for a day or two, but otherwise no harm done."

"Good." He smiled at her. She smiled back. Then there was that awkward silence again.

After a few moments, Arnold stretched out his legs and relaxed his head against the doorframe, closing his eyes to rest a bit.

A minute or two passed and then he heard Helga speak. "Hey…Arnold?"

Her voice sounded very unsure—a fact which caught Arnold's attention and caused him to open his eyes and raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he replied.

Helga glanced over at Mr. Simmons, but he didn't seem to be paying attention to the children as he continued his grading. She turned back to Arnold, keeping her voice a bit low. There was definitely a lot of hesitation as she spoke. "Um…about back in the closet…"

Arnold felt himself blush slightly, but he tried not to betray his nervousness as he spoke (after all…a _lot_ of things had happened in the closet). "Yeah?"

Helga glanced down. "Um, you remember…before the other kids came along and we got out of there, we were talking…" She swallowed hard. "And, um, you were about to open the door and take me somewhere because you wanted to say something to me…er, to tell me something about 'what I wanted,' I think?" She looked at him with uncertainty, like she couldn't quite recall the wording so much as the idea of what he had said.

Arnold tried to remember and then blushed as he did. He had been going to bring up the fact that he knew that what Helga really wanted, even though she insisted she just wanted him to leave her alone for good, was for _him_ to be in love with _her_ too. And he'd wanted the chance to try and explain to her once and for all why he just…just…didn't or…or couldn't…not really… Honestly, he'd had no idea how he was going to put the fact that he even though he liked Helga more than almost any other person he knew, he didn't love her like she loved him, but he knew it had to be addressed directly before things got even more difficult between them or before Helga's secret became in danger of being exposed anymore. Even if it meant that she wouldn't want to be around him, he now accepted that, as Gerald had pointed out at lunch, it wasn't really fair to her to have things left up in the air. Arnold couldn't help but recall his poem, and how at one point he'd tried to express this dilemma about needing to figure out his increasingly complicated feelings for Helga but at the same time not being sure how to do so…and not being sure what would happen if he couldn't…or if he _did_…

"I-I was just wondering…" Helga continued, bringing him out of his thoughts, "I mean, as long as we have some time now…" she glanced away again, "what were you going to say, exactly?"

Helga knew, considering the number of times she'd asked Arnold to please drop the subject of her love for him that day and over the course of the weekend, in general, that this question coming from her was probably going to seem weird to him. Yet…now there _was_ actually some time and the pressure _seemed_ to be off about keeping her secret and getting the poetry assignment done… And, to be honest, the way he'd suddenly grabbed her hand and spoken so seriously about knowing what it was she really wanted…and then the way he'd almost been…well…_flirting_ with her in the air vents…and how he had just slightly kissed her _back_ back in the closet…and, of course, his poem for her…All of these things combined were seriously making her wonder if maybe…just maybe…he felt something too. '_ 'My man Arnold is in love with you._' ' She was no longer telling the echo of Gerald's voice in her head to shut up. Now, she was almost clinging to it for dear life.

She watched as Arnold shifted uncomfortably where he was sitting. He cleared his throat. "Oh…_that_… Yeah…" He glanced from her to Mr. Simmons (who was still grading away) and back to her. He lowered his voice. "Are you sure you want to talk about this…here?"

Helga blinked and looked back at Mr. Simmons and then to Arnold again. She shrugged. "I think it'll be fine as long as you don't invite him to help us make a sewing circle over here or something. Besides, he already knows everything about the poetry so he's not _completely_ clueless about how I feel…" She couldn't help but smile to herself as she leaned her head against the wall behind her. "Honestly, I'd be surprised if he _hasn't_ figured me all out by this point considering the eight months of romantic poetry he's graded."

Arnold smiled at the comment.

"By the way…" Helga knew they were getting a bit off topic but she was curious about something and, besides, they had all afternoon to talk here openly, right? She stretched her legs out and crossed them, continuing. "How _did_ you figure out that those were all _my_ poems that he's been reading out loud, Football Head? I don't remember letting _that_ slip any time this weekend." The smile on her face almost seemed…impressed.

Arnold smiled and glanced down. "Well, actually, during English class I was thinking about how the poems Mr. Simmons usually reads aloud are really good and sound almost like love poems, and then it just…" he looked up at her, "kind of hit me."

Helga couldn't help laughing. "What did I say before, Football Head—a month of nothing and then everything in hyper drive. I'm a little surprised it took three days of talking about nothing but my poetry to lead you there but, congratulations, Arnoldo—you finally caught me at least once all on your own."

She winked and he couldn't help but laugh.

Helga's smile fell a bit after a second or two, though, and she sighed and rested her head in one of her hands. "I'm probably going to have to ask Simmons to stop reading mine out loud like that, though, all things considered…"

Arnold looked at her in surprise. "What? Why?"

Helga leaned back again and shrugged. "Well, everyone knows I'm a good poet and everyone knows Simmons reads good poetry out loud even though he might say it's by Anonymous. It wouldn't take long for someone to put together that Helga G. Pataki's writing love poems and, even though you can't tell who they're about in MINE," she stressed the word, "it'd still be pretty obvious that there was someone around here I didn't entirely hate." She glanced at him. "It'll just be better if I don't have to deal with it at all."

"Helga, are you sure?" Arnold couldn't help but feel a touch of sadness and guilt as he looked at her—after all, if it hadn't been for her helping him this weekend she wouldn't be considering never having her work read in class again.

Helga, he noticed, didn't seem too upset though. In fact, in response to his question she just shrugged again. "Don't worry about it, Arnoldo. I was never writing them so they could get read to everyone, anyway." She smiled. "As long as I can _keep_ writing them, it doesn't matter to me either way. The poem's what's important--not the attention it gets."

Arnold smiled. There it was again—that insightfulness just like when she'd first talked to him about writing poetry on Saturday afternoon. He couldn't help but think that these random moments of wisdom were one of the most interesting things about her.

Helga blinked as she suddenly noticed that he was looking at her with that half lidded gaze of his. Once again, she was reminded of her locket, and swallowed hard. She tried to move the conversation along and take her mind off of that potential problem in their still unfolding plan. Besides, all this talk of poetry assignments was starting to remind her of her purpose behind pulling Arnold into that closet in the first place…"You know, when I walked into the classroom, before, I actually thought that that's what was going on—Simmons had read my poem, everyone had put two and two together, and they were getting ready to take me apart piece by piece for caring about someone." Arnold noticed Helga's face suddenly fall slightly as she continued, and she pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "Who would have guessed that they had figured out that a poem was ABOUT me instead of BY me?" A slight scowl came to her face, though it made her seem more hurt than angry. "Or that the person who wrote it would leave me alone to clean up the mess?" She was trying to sound angry but the sadness in her voice was evident.

Arnold blinked, guilt washing over him. He slid across the floor so that he was sitting right next to Helga. He took one of her hands. "Helga…I'm sorry that everyone figured out my poem was about you. I didn't mean for anything like that to happen. I was just trying to sort some things out about us by writing them down like a poem this afternoon...and then I realized I forgot to bring in one of the poems we worked on on Saturday, and I didn't want either of us to fail...so, handing it in was the only thing I could think of when English class started. I was really just trying to make things better, but I didn't think Mr. Simmons would read it and I really didn't think that everyone would be able to figure out who it was about." He looked at her, sincerely sad for all of the trouble he had managed to cause her for the millionth time in the last three days. "Helga, I'm sorry that I keep ending up leading people to prying into your life, and I'm sorry I left you alone to—"

She looked at him, and he could see some tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. She pulled her hand out of his. "Why did you do that, Arnold? Why did you leave me _alone_?"

He blinked, surprised at the amount of hurt in her voice.

"I mean," she continued, glancing away, "I know it was a bad situation and if I could have I would have kept you out of it, but you didn't even _try_… You just ran out of the room and left me there, terrified that they were going to figure out _everything_. You've never left me alone like that, Arnold. Ever. And even with all the stuff I've put you through over the years, I've never left you alone like that either…not really. I don't care about the fact that a few people know I write poetry now, and, as you probably guessed from the last thing I did in the closet, I don't ENTIRELY hate the poem…" She looked at him now, a degree of sadness and disappointment on her face that Arnold had never seen. "But, you just left me there with my worst nightmare staring me in the face! Arnold, I just don't-- "

"I just didn't want to mess anything else up for you, Helga!" Arnold suddenly found himself exclaiming in a remorseful voice.

Helga froze at this sudden statement from her beloved. "Wh-what?"

Arnold sighed, a distressed look on his face. He pulled his knees in and wrapped his arms around them just as she had done. "Helga…it seems like everything bad that's happened to you this weekend has been _my_ fault. You had to come tutor me in the first place because of the grade I got on my poem, our whole class found out about your poetry because of Gerald worrying about me, your parents and your sister got angry at you because you ended up having to lie to all of them for of me…" He took a breath and turned to her. "Helga, I was already standing up and getting ready to tell them all to leave you alone the second I saw Rhonda and the rest of them surrounding you but…I just didn't want to try and do something for you again without thinking about how it would make _you_ feel. I guess I was just afraid that by helping you it would somehow start making them think about you and me, and that it would lead them to your secret…" He grabbed her hand again, looking her in the eyes. "Like I said in the closet, you've obviously been handling this whole thing on your own really well for a really long time, and I didn't want to jump in without thinking and ruin something you might have been trying to do to fix it all. So, I left before I could do anything _else_ bad and before Rhonda could get around to asking me if I wrote the poem like she was asking all of the other boys in the class before you came back…" He couldn't help but smile slightly at Helga, who, now, was just watching him with wide eyes, all accusation gone from her face. "Like you said--I'm a _horrible_ liar."

This final sentence actually made Helga crack a smile as well. She wiped away some of the mist from her eyes and gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. "Football Head…you…you just…" She just shook her head, her eyes closed, still smiling.

Arnold smiled as well, happy that she seemed to understand and to be forgiving him.

She let out a breath and turned to him. "Aw, come here, you big lug!" and with that she leaned over, a grin on her face, and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

Seeing her so happy and feeling her so close to him, Arnold's smile increased as well. Things finally seemed to be working out and it was nice to just sit here like this, and to have her be so open and so willing to connect with him. And she made him feel so warm, he couldn't help but notice as the hug continued…

"Arnold, Helga…?" Mr. Simmons cleared his throat and looked down with a slight smile at the two kids still seated upon the floor in his room. He had managed to walk over to them without their even noticing…and he was holding two particular pieces of paper.

Arnold and Helga both blinked and looked up at their teacher, recalling that they were indeed not alone in the room. Helga instantly let Arnold go and shifted away from him, avoiding eye contact with both her teacher and the boy in question. Arnold just smiled and tried to keep the blush threatening to come to his cheeks under control. He cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, Mr. Simmons?"

Mr. Simmons, still smiling at the sight he had just come upon, did his best not to let out a small chuckle. He moved one of the pieces of paper to his right hand, and the other to his left. "As long as you're both here, I was just wondering if you would like the grades for your poetry assignments from today. I just finished looking them over."

Helga blinked in surprise. "Sure, Mr. Simmons…that would be great. Thanks." She stood up and reached out, taking the piece of paper in his left hand.

Arnold stood up as well. "Yeah, thanks, Mr. Simmons." He reached for the paper in the teacher's right hand. Upon receiving it, Arnold glanced at the grade on top and saw, with a smile, that it was an A. He turned to Helga to see her reaction to her own poem. She just looked at it with a slight smile on her face for a second, and then gently folded the page and placed it in her jumper pocket. '_She probably gets so many A's on them that it doesn't even matter to her anymore…_' he thought to himself. Still, he couldn't help but smile at seeing _this_ poem carefully placed away like something precious to her, whereas the first Helga Pataki poem he had encountered this past weekend had been crumpled carelessly into a ball on the floor…The change was not lost on Mr. Simmons, either.

"Well, I'm just going to start packing my things up so that I can get to the faculty meeting at four. You two are welcome to stay in here until the janitors leave at six—just remember to close the door behind you, and have a special day." Mr. Simmons gave the kids one more smile and then returned to his desk to gather his effects.

As he left, Helga turned to Arnold. "Well, Football Head, as long as we've still got some time," she checked the wall clock which currently read 3:45, "let me see your poem so I don't have to get around to reading it after dinner tonight, or something. Seriously, when I get home I plan to crawl into bed as soon as I can and sleep for as many hours as possible before school tomorrow."

Arnold blinked at her. "What do you mean?"

Helga scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, duh, Arnoldo—I need to see how much damage control I'm going to have to do over the next few days because of this whole fiasco, and I won't know_ that_ until I see exactly what's in this chaos-creating poem of yours." Helga was trying to play it like this was strictly business, though deep down inside she had another...less cut and dry… motive for her request

Arnold felt a nervous twist in his stomach. He glanced down at his poem. He knew it seemed stupid but, somehow…he really wasn't comfortable letting Helga read it. It was just…he didn't know how to describe it: sure, they had shared a lot this weekend and, sure, he knew she wasn't going to plaster it up all over the school or anything but, still…at the very idea of it he could feel a blush rising to his cheeks.

He cleared his throat. "Um, Helga…?"

She sighed impatiently. "Yes, Football Head?"

"Would it be okay if I…if I didn't show it to you?" he asked hesitantly.

She sighed again. "Arnold, come on, I'm not going to make fun of you or critique it like with the last one or anything. I just want to know how hard I'm going to have to work to get things back to the status quo, and right now I have absolutely no idea what I'm working with. That's all."

"I-I know…" Arnold began, "It's just a little...embarrassing…"

"Oh, and it's not like I haven't had to deal with you reading a poem that _I _wrote about _you_ lately, or anything," she replied, giving him a look.

Arnold sighed. "I know but…but…I just don't think…"

Helga rolled her eyes at his continued hesitation, considered for a second, and then a smile came to her face. She reached into her jumper pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Okay, then, from poet to poet, Football Head, how about a trade? You let me read your poem, and I let you read mine."

Arnold blinked. "Really?" he asked cautiously. It was tempting: hadn't he just been thinking about how he would have liked to have seen some of Helga's earlier stuff so that he could get an idea of how her confession had changed things?

Helga's grin grew. '_He's biting…_' "That's right, Arnoldo." She held up the poem, clamped delicately between her pointer and middle fingers. "A genuine Helga G. Pataki poem all about you—no strings attached, no sneaking around to get it, no nutty lies trying to cover it up. You get to see it _outright_…"

Arnold was very torn. He looked to his poem and then back to Helga's and then back to his own. Still, it felt to him like if he made this decision in haste that somehow he was going to regret it: he needed time to decide if letting Helga read his poem (which, he thought to himself, taken out of context, might give her the wrong impression of his feelings about her) was worth seeing another one of hers. Yet, he couldn't help but find himself desperately wanting to go through with the trade, despite the potential for awkwardness.

Recalling what time Helga had said it currently was, before, he took a breath, folded his poem in half and opened the classroom door. '_It's almost four o'clock—everyone should be on their way to practice by now.'_ "I don't know, Helga…let me think about it and maybe later we ca—"

Close to a dozen surprised gasps met Arnold's ears, instantly cutting off his sentence and causing him to turn in shock to see the remainder of the fourth grade of P.S. 118 (minus Gerald and Phoebe, of course) standing in the hallway and now staring at him and at Helga.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut—Helga had reached across a shocked Arnold and closed it firmly. She looked at him with wide eyes. "WHY DID YOU _DO_ THAT?!?!" she yelled at him.

Mr. Simmons stood up, hearing both the door slam and Helga's sudden exclamation. "Arnold, Helga, is everything alright?" He approached them and the door.

Arnold had a look of shock and bewilderment on his face. "I—I'm sorry! I thought—I thought you said they would have left by now!"

Helga rolled her eyes and smacked her forehead. "Yes, Arnold, they SHOULD have left by now, but you don't just go on _assumption_. You have someone _check it out_ for you!" She gestured across the room. "I've got a walkie talkie link with Phoebe in my desk—_of_ _course,_ before we went out there, I was going to radio her and have her give me a status report!"

Arnold raised an eyebrow. "You have a walkie talkie link with Phoebe in your desk?"

Helga sighed in exasperation. "_Not_ the time to start being weirded out by things I do, Football Head. And, meanwhile, the 'air vents' thing gets a laugh from you but the walkie talkies get a confused eyebrow raise? Seriously!?"

"Arnold, Helga, what's the matter?" Mr. Simmons walked over to the door, opened it and exited into the hall. He glanced at the other kids and then a new sight met his eyes that caused them to widen in surprise. "Oh dear, Curly, what did you do to that janitor's closet?! Now, now, stop doing that with the mop!" He ran out into the hall.

The kids watched him go off and then turned back to Arnold and Helga. Helga quickly slammed the door shut one more time and turned to Arnold.

Arnold took a deep breath and looked at her. "Okay…so what should we do?"

Helga gave an exasperated sigh. She shrugged her shoulders and faced forward, the scowl returning to her face. "We _act_, Arnold. We _act_ like the _wind_." She turned back to him quickly. "I've been faking stuff in front of you and everybody else for years so just follow my lead, redirect all potentially dangerous questions to me, and, uh, don't break. Under any circumstances." She put her hand on the door handle. "Okay, here we go." She pulled open the door.

"Hey guys, what's up? Buses never come or something, or are we just planning to have practice in the hallway today?" She was trying not to come off as too abrasive (the last thing she needed was to make more enemies among this group), yet still trying to assert her dominance at the same time.

Suddenly, Rhonda stepped forward through the crowd, her hair slightly disheveled and her collar a bit torn. There even appeared to be a footprint or two on different places on her shirt. "Okay! I am starting to get _really_ tired of all of this so I'm just going to be blunt!" She looked to Arnold and Helga. "We were going to just flat out ask Simmons who wrote that poem about you, Helga, but as long as you and the most likely culprit are here, I'll cut to the chase--Arnold, did you write that poem about Helga? And if so, exactly how long have you had this crush on her?" She addressed Helga. "And Helga, what do _you_ think of all this?"

'_Wow—I don't know what happened to her but she's just going for it, isn't she?'_ Helga took a deep breath and moved just slightly in front of Arnold, scowling. "Look, Rhonda, EVERYONE, can we all just stop now!? It's almost four o'clock—we've all officially been in this school an _hour_ longer than we've needed to be! So, someone wrote a poem and it sounded like it was about someone else? Big deal!" She hesitated, then added in just as forceful of a voice, "Besides, has anyone else but me noticed that a ton of the poems Simmons has read this year have sounded like they're about another person? Why are we suddenly making such a big deal out of this one—just because you guys could tell who the subject was this time?"

Arnold blinked. He couldn't believe what she had just said. '_She's risking letting them figure out everything just to fix this mess I made._' He just looked at her for a second in a bit of awe. _'She really is the bravest person I know…'_

Suddenly, Arnold, a determined look on his face, stepped forward so that _he_ was slightly in front of _Helga_ now. "But…but even if other poems this year _have_ been about other people too, that's not the point. You're all probably making whoever wrote this poem really uncomfortable and you're definitely upsetting Helga. Doesn't it even matter that she helped us all so much, yesterday? I don't know about you, but before you guys came in Mr. Simmons gave me my poem back and I got an A," he lifted up the paper just slightly, of course making sure to keep it's blank back to the kids, "and I bet _your_ grades are going to be a lot better than usual too."

Helga blinked and lost her scowl for just a second as she listened to Arnold's voice in defense of her. Though she knew that it was probably making things a bit worse having him stand up for her in front of everyone (just like he'd pointed out before when explaining his motives for not helping her with the kids originally), somehow she was more concerned with the happy feeling inside of her about Arnold's concern for her safety than with her worry about how the rest of the world might react to his bold move.

The kids began to murmur amongst each other as Arnold finished making his point. Suddenly, Lila stepped to the front of the crowd again, breathing heavily like she had just come running up. "I'm…oh too sure that…Arnold is ever so right…" She finally caught her breath. "Can't we all just go and enjoy a nice afternoon at Gerald Field before Mr. Simmons tells Principal Wartz about the mess we've made of the janitor's closet and we all get detention?"

This plea definitely got some attention from the other kids, many of who (despite still being curious about this whole 'Helga poem' thing) were quite ready to get out of school and start their afternoons.

"Okay, then, Arnold…" Rhonda turned to Arnold sounding equally fatigued but seeming determined to make this little adventure not entirely worthless. "If the poem's not by you then how do you explain all the stuff between you and Helga lately? You two barely spoke before and now you're suddenly standing up for her and worrying about her feelings and I'm also pretty certain that I saw you holding her hand on your bed in your room, yesterday…Who else could it be but you?"

Both Arnold and Helga's minds were divided between controlling their blushing, and trying to come up with any response that could successfully combat such hard evidence that something was, indeed, going on between them.

And then, suddenly, what Arnold and Helga really needed most came in the form of a very unexpected person…

"Uh…I wrote the poem…about…Helga…"

Instantly, the whole class turned to see the person who had uttered these words entering the room. At the sight of him, they all (Arnold and Helga, included) yelled in unison, "BRAINY!!!???"

He lifted up one of his hands and waved his fingers. "Uh…hi…"

The whole class burst into conversation at this latest plot twist.

"You know, he _did_ hit me yesterday just so he could get everyone to stay and apologize to Helga…" Harold scratched his head.

"Well, gosh, I really didn't see this coming but I guess it makes sense—especially with how he was defending her, yesterday afternoon. Don't you think, Sheena?" asked Eugene.

"I guess so." Sheena put a hand to her chin. "In fact, didn't Helga get in trouble a few weeks ago when that Dr. Bliss lady came here and saw her hit Brainy for following her around?"

"Boy howdy…" Sid crossed his arms in front of his chest, "you know, I figured that poem couldn't be Arnold's—I mean, there's _no way_ he'd ever like _Helga_…"

"You know…" Rhonda began very slowly, causing the other kids to pause in their exclamations and turn to her, "It actually _does_ make sense. I mean, all that stuff you guys just said and the fact that, well…" she glanced at Arnold, "no offense, Arnold, but that poem about Helga was one of the best ones I've ever heard Simmons read, and that poem of yours we looked at at your house wasn't…really..." She sighed. "It was bad, Arnold," she ended bluntly.

The murmurs from the other kids showed a firm and unequivocal agreement with this statement.

"What I don't understand, though," Rhonda continued, scratching her head and turning back to the others, "is if Helga's _here_, then who was in the closet? I mean, we all _definitely_ heard someone in there, especially just before we got the door open…And Gerald and Phoebe _were_ guarding someone. I mean, he faked trying to open the door for like fifteen minutes even though the handle was entirely smashed on the floor. " All of the kids seemed equally as confused as Rhonda as she brought up this valid point. She continued, gesturing to Brainy now. "But I definitely saw Brainy with us beforehand, so it couldn't have been him." She turned to Arnold and Helga, again. "And if Arnold didn't write the poem then what are you two doing in here together?" Suddenly, Rhonda blinked as something caught her eye. "And…why are your knuckles turning that awful purplish color, Helga?" She looked to Arnold, almost like she was expecting to suddenly see a bruise on his face to match the one forming on Helga's fist.

Seeing her beloved take a step forward and start to open his mouth, Helga put an arm in front of Arnold and started to speak before he could even attempt anything. Besides, she had an idea that might just work considering what the kids knew about her actions between when the bell had wrung and now. She just had to work out the details as she went. "Well, duh, that _was_ me in the closet, princess!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest, scowling. "I mean, sheesh, you all wouldn't leave me alone, before, so I pretended to duck into the Girls Room and then I went for the janitor's closet which actually has a _lock_ on the door….But, it was…uh, locked…" She rolled her eyes up sheepishly. "Not the best planning on my part, I'll give you that…" She shook her head to clear it and continued. "Anyway, it sounded like you were all coming back and I figured there wasn't enough time to get back the bathroom, so I…" She paused and looked to Rhonda. "You said the handle was broken on the floor?"

Rhonda nodded, the scrutinizing look still on her face.

Helga couldn't help raising an eyebrow at this random information. "_O__kay_…uh, well, so, you know, I hit the door handle with…my…fist!" Her eyes brightened up a bit. "Yeah!" She held up her hand with the few bruises as evidence. "I hit it and it popped off and I finally got inside, and then I figured I'd just wait you guys out."

"Okay…but what about Gerald and Phoebe? Where do they fit into all of this?" Rhonda tapped her foot.

Helga scowled. "Hey, I'm _getting_ to that, alright!" Helga took another breath, and then slowly continued. "So…uh, so anyway, like I was saying, I was inside but now the door was broken and it would barely stay closed. So, I saw Phoebe and asked her to stand guard for the janitor and anyone else who might come by. But, let's face it—Phoebe's not exactly _intimidating_, so I told her to go get someone to help who WASN'T part of your insane mob. From what you guys said, I guess she must have found tall hair boy and asked him to give her a hand. While she was gone, though…uh…I-I…" She raised an eyebrow as she saw Mr. Simmons suddenly chasing Curly down the hall behind the other kids. She smiled slightly as an idea occurred to her. "I…saw Simmons walking up the hall and I decided that, since you all were so bent on answers, I'd go and ask him who wrote the stupid poem once and for all--just like you guys were about to do. Funny coincidence, huh?" She grinned at the group of kids before her, but they remained silent and attentive, so she just sighed and cleared her throat, continuing. "So, anyway, I left the closet and came here to talk to Simmons. He wouldn't tell me who wrote it, though, of course—that stupid 'Anonymous' rule—you know? Anyway, I guess Gerald and Phoebe got back to the closet and thought that I was still inside so they kept protecting the door. And that's all she wrote!" Helga took a deep breath and crossed her arms in front of her chest as she as she concluded her fully fabricated story, just a touch of a satisfied smile on her face.

Arnold just looked at her in amazement—if the other kids hadn't been around, he was sure he would have applauded this performance and quick thinking.

"Okay," Rhonda said, seeming to accept this thorough explanation as logical. "Then…where does Arnold come into all of this?" She jerked her thumb in Arnold's direction.

Helga shrugged her shoulders. "How the heck am _I_ supposed to know? I just came in here and found him trying to talk to Simmons too."

Rhonda and the other kids turned to Arnold in curiosity. "Well?"

Arnold looked to Helga, expecting some kind of guidance or hint as to what he was supposed to do. Helga just looked back at him, seeming to say with her eyes, 'Go for it, Football Head—_I_ just did.'

Really, though, Helga was regretting a little bit having to put him on the spot like this, but it wouldn't make any sense for her to know his motives for being here if they had just coincidentally met in the classroom, like she'd said in her story.

Arnold was silent. He considered for a few seconds, trying to balance his desire to help Helga cover things up with his moral qualms about lying to his friends. Then his eyes fell upon the A-grade poem in his hand…and he actually got an idea. He looked to the other students, trying to smile though there was a bit of hesitation in his voice. "I…was just getting my poetry grade early from Mr. Simmons…" he held up the paper in his hand slightly again, "because...I was a little worried about what it would be." He dropped his hand with the poem in it back to his side. "I mean, not doing so well on the last assignment was the whole reason Helga was tutoring me this weekend in the first place…and I wanted to know if it worked. And now I know that it did." He shrugged. "That's all." He glanced at Helga as though seeking her approval of this reasoning and could have sworn that, despite her scowl, she somehow gave him a brief smile.

The other kids looked at each other silently for a moment.

"Makes sense to me."

"Yeah, me too…"

"It's dang near a bit complicated, but I can see how that would happen…"

"Yeah, boy howdy, it's just a coincidence… _Brainy's_ the one with the crush!"

And then the teasing began.

"Yeah, now we know who's got the crush on _Helga_!" Harold elbowed Stinky and Sid.

"Aw man…this defies _all_ limits of uncool," added Iggy, cleaning his glasses.

"Oh, I don't know—I think it's a little sweet," chimed in Sheena.

"Yeah, but…gosh, it's a little creepy too," added Eugene.

Rhonda suddenly grabbed one of Brainy's arms. "Brainy you _have_ to give me all of the juicy details! How long has this been going on? Why did you decide to hand in a poem about her _now_? Do you think she likes you back?"

Suddenly, a scowling Helga grabbed Rhonda's wrist and removed her hand from gripping Brainy's arm. "Hands off the geek, Rhonda. Now."

Rhonda blinked and then smiled, looking from Brainy to Helga. "Well, I guess _that_ answers my last question."

There were a few snickers from the kids.

"Oh, Rhonda…" Helga began with a sigh, releasing her hand with a bit of force, "I've got to say, I have just been _looking_ for someone to really _clock_ for a few days now, and you are currently at the top of my list and there are no teachers around. So, _please_—GIVE me a reason." Helga held up her good fist.

Rhonda swallowed hard and backed away a little. "Okay, easy, Helga…I get it—you like Brainy and he likes you. No problem…"

Helga just stood there, glaring death at Rhonda and the other kids. Arnold was starting to get worried that she seriously _was_ going to lose her temper. He was considering touching her shoulder or grabbing her hand in one of his, just as he'd done yesterday on several occasions to calm her down or to help her focus. However, he realized that, unfortunately, doing something like that in front of everyone would too risky right now. '_I just wish there was something I could do to help her, though…'_ he thought to himself with worry.

However, Helga (entirely on her own) merely took a deep breath, closed her eyes, opened them again, and then addressed the students around her in as level a voice as she could muster. "Okay, let's get some things straight. First, I do not like Brainy. Second, yeah, Brainy maybe likes me. And third…" some of the anger was shining through again, "there is _no_ reason that we should even be _having_ this conversation. So, he wrote a poem about me—big _deal!_ You know, that actually takes a lot of courage, you chuckleheads—not everyone's brave enough to try something like that. And so he might have a crush--so _what_? I know this is practically taboo but, off the record, I know for a fact that everyone in this class has had their share of little crushes. And why is it so weird? Because it's a crush on _me_? Stinky had a crush on me at the beginning of the year! Arnold's weird cousin did! And, heck, I'm taking it WAY out of context, but once Harold even grabbed me and said that he loved me! And as for crushes in general, heck, the whole reason you guys ended up in Arnold's room on Sunday instead of staying downstairs in his foyer was because Curly chased Rhonda up the stairs trying to kiss her! Not to mention a few other choice ones I've picked up on over the years. I'm not gonna mention any names..." she gave a scrutinizing survey of the kids around her who's faces had suddenly taken on slightly nervous looks at this new point, "...but I think you know who you are."

Helga could feel her anger and defensiveness still fighting to just come out and put everyone in their places, but she did her best to recall that blowing up at and then storming away from people had already gotten her in enough trouble over the last three days. So, instead, she paused and took another deep breath to calm herself down before continuing. "So, great—you 'meddling kids' finally solved the mystery of the good poem. Fantastic. Now, can we all get on with our lives before I decide, if this insanity is going to be a regular thing, that there's _no way_ I'm _ever_ helping any of you with poetry _ever_ again?!"

Helga glared at the students before her, defying them to challenge her further. She looked particularly hard at Rhonda. Her scowl almost faltered, though, as she was met with a very scrutinizing look on the dark-haired girl's face…like something about this whole thing just wasn't quite 'fitting' for her. Rhonda looked from Helga to Brainy to Arnold and back to Helga. She then approached the ten-year-old scowling blonde and said in a low voice so that only they could hear, "Something about this just…just seems…like it works out too perfectly, though….I mean, why didn't Brainy say anything earlier?"

Arnold was close enough to Helga that he could just overhear the conversation. He felt his heart beat faster as Rhonda suddenly seemed ready to make holes in Helga's seemingly flawless story. Rhonda continued, now glancing in his direction. "And where was Arnold for a half hour before talking to Simmons…And—"

"WHA-HA-HA—I shall destroy you all for the love of my beautiful Rhonda!!!"

The sound of one of Curly's maniacal screams from the hall interrupted Rhonda's questioning and caused both her and Helga to glance out of the door briefly, though they couldn't make out exactly what was happening between the slightly off kilter boy who had returned to the closet and the teacher (and, now, principal, they realized, as they saw Wartz running down the hall) who were still trying to stop him and his shenanigans.

"Oh, give it a _REST_, CURLY!" Rhonda called over her shoulder, scowling. She turned back to Helga. "Now, like I was saying…" She hesitated just slightly, though, as she noticed a slight, confident smirk on Helga's lips that had not been there just a second ago.

"Okay…" Helga took another calming breath and rubbed her temples. "Rhonda—sidebar. Now, please."

Rhonda blinked as Helga suddenly grabbed her already rumpled shirt and pulled her off to the side in the direction of Mr. Simmons' desk.

Arnold blinked and was about to step forward to stop Helga from hitting Rhonda (he wasn't trying to be presumptuous, especially considering her sudden display of self-control, but he was pretty familiar with how Helga could act when she was cornered and when she was angry, and she had been both surrounded by people _and_ pretty steamed several times over the last few days). He paused, though, as he saw Helga merely approach the unsatisfied girl and begin whispering something in her ear. She continued speaking for a few seconds and then pulled away from her with a very smug smile. Rhonda, however, now looked just a little terrified, to say the least.

Rhonda cleared her throat and turned to the other students, clapping her hands together and smiling falsely. "Okay…well, _I'm_ done for the day." She walked back over to the other kids and addressed Brainy. "And Brainy, I _am_ sorry for interfering in your personal affairs. And Arnold," she glanced at him, "you were nice enough to let us use your house to study, yesterday—thank you and I'm sorry about all the questions. And Helga," she turned back to her, "_of course_ I'm grateful for all of your help with our homework. We all are, aren't we?" She turned back to the other students who nodded their agreements, though they were a little confused by this sudden change in Rhonda's attitude.

"Great!" Rhonda smiled. "Now," she glanced at the clock, "practice starts in a few minutes, right? So, why don't we all just head over to Gerald Field together right now?" She looked to the three students to whom she had just apologized so sincerely and yet…so randomly. "Helga, Arnold, Brainy—are you coming?"

Arnold just stared at Helga with a raised eyebrow. '_What is going on_?'

Helga smiled, still looking at Rhonda, and walked back over to Arnold and Brainy. "Thank you, Rhonda," she replied nicely. She held up her right hand. "Unfortunately, though, like I said, I banged up my hand pretty good on that door handle so you guys might have to get by without me as catcher for a couple of days. Have fun, though."

Rhonda looked to Arnold and Brainy, still smiling.

"Uh…" Arnold began, still completely confused about what had just happened and rubbing the back of his neck, "That's okay…I think I might skip it, too. I…still want to talk to Mr. Simmons about some stuff with my grade."

"Uh…" Brainy wheezed, "No…"

"I might stay as well, Rhonda." Lila suddenly adding, joining Arnold, Helga and Brainy. "I'm feeling just ever so tired after walking through the school after you and everyone else, and I'm oh too sure a nap would be better for me than a baseball practice right now."

Rhonda shrugged at the lot of them, still with that false smile plastered to her face. "Okay, see you all later." She turned around. "Come on, guys—free mocha lattes after practice--_on me!_"

She began to walk into the hallway but noticed that the other kids were hesitating, unsure looks on their faces. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh fine—free 'Yahoo sodas.' Sheesh, no one in this school has any taste." And, now with eager smiles, the other kids followed Rhonda into the hall and out of the school, leaving Helga, Brainy, Arnold and Lila alone in Mr. Simmons' classroom.

Helga smiled and took a small bow. "Thank you, thank you, no autographs please. I mean, that was one of my better performances, if I do say so myself, so maybe a couple if you _really_ want them… I'll at least accept a little applause, of course--."

Suddenly, the sound of two people actually clapping filled the ears of the four kids, and they watched as Gerald and Phoebe entered the room, smiling. "I must say Helga, that _was indeed_ an inspired performance," her best friend offered.

Gerald chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, but, from now on can we set up some kind of way of communicating between each other when these crazy schemes change location, because I seriously just spent ten minutes until Simmons pulled me away whispering to a pile of rubber gloves in the janitor's closet that I thought you guys were hiding under."

The other kids all looked silently at Gerald for a second, and then all of them burst into laughter together.

It took a few seconds, but Lila, at least, managed to get her giggling under control enough to speak. "Oh, I'm just ever so glad that that's all over!" She addressed Arnold and Helga with a relieved smile. "I'm not sure what's been going on with _you_ _two_, but ever since that group left the classroom looking for Helga I've been following them around and trying to convince them to give it up, and it hasn't been easy." Suddenly, she swallowed hard and turned to just Helga, a bit of fear in her eyes. "Oh, and, Helga, I'm ever so sorry, but I think a big part of the problem you had with the closet came from a mistake I might have made."

Helga blinked and a half smile came to her face. "_You_ contributed to making _my_ life miserable, Lila? Well that IS new." She relaxed against a desk. "Yeah, what _happened,_ exactly? I mean, one minute I'm trying not to kill Arnold and the next minute I'm trying not to have a heart attack because people are banging at the door."

Lila glanced down, looking particularly nervous. "I…I might have said something along the lines of 'Let's leave Arnold and Helga alone' instead of just 'Helga' when I was asking them to stop…" She looked up at Helga again. "But I didn't mean to do it, Helga, and I really am just oh too sorry!"

Helga just sighed and rubbed her temples. She approached the nervous redhead. "Lila, you know, that whole death threat for spilling the beans thing isn't exactly an _iron clad_ contract—it's more like a…_guideline_…Especially since I already spilled everything to Football Head, here, all by myself." She jerked her thumb in Arnold's direction.

Lila blinked, smiling hesitantly. "Really?"

"Yeah." Helga shrugged. Even if Lila _had_ caused a few more problems, things had worked out okay. Besides, Helga _had_ managed to sneak in another kiss with Arnold in the middle of it all. '_Heck, I'd argue my way out of a hundred awkward situations for one of those any day_.' She put a hand on Lila's shoulder and continued with a smile. "Anyone can have a slip--BELIEVE ME, I know!" Helga rolled her eyes and flashed back to just how much of her secret life Arnold had managed to pick up on over the past few days alone. She glanced back at Lila and continued. "Just don't go announcing things through the halls and we're cool." Lila smiled. "Besides," Helga went on, "I'm not going to 'wring your neck' when you saved my butt more times than I can count this weekend. Not to mention, Olga would be pretty ticked off at me if her 'Lil' Sis' had a broken neck the next time she saw you. And, of course," she gave Lila a soft punch in the shoulder, "I _have_ kind of started to like you. A _little._" Smiling, she pinched her thumb and pointer finger together to indicate the small amount.

"Oh, Helga!" Lila smiled warmly and hugged her.

"Okay, wow, _way_ too much touching going on! Easy, Lila—you've got a vice grip worse than Olga." Despite what she was saying , Helga was smiling.

Lila let her go, laughing. "Sorry, Helga."

Suddenly, Helga felt someone's warm hand on her shoulder and turned around to see a surprised and smiling Arnold looking at her. "Helga…how did you do that?"

Helga shrugged and smiled as well. "Hey, I told you—I've learned how to think on my feet after all these years."

"No, I mean…" he removed his hand from her shoulder and used it to scratch his head, "I mean…the story was brilliant..." Helga felt her heart flutter at the compliment, "...but, I thought Rhonda really had you at the end. How did you get her to leave us alone?"

"Yeah…how _did_ you do that?" asked Gerald, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, I'm curious to know as well," added Phoebe.

Helga smiled and turned to Gerald. "Well, Geraldo, you remember how yesterday I mentioned to you something about 'the romantic subtleties' of our class?" Her grin became just a bit wryer.

Gerald blushed and cleared his throat, glancing away. "Uh, yeah…I think I remember something like that? What about it?"

Helga shrugged. "Well...like I told them all, _everyone's_ had a crush once in a while. And then we heard Curly in the hall talking about Rhonda and I thought it'd be interesting to see how she would react if the shoe was on the other foot. So, I just pulled her aside and told her that if she was so interested in poetry all of a sudden, Curly mentioned to me when I was helping him work on his poem the other day that he had a bunch of ones dedicated to her in his room. And then I casually suggested that unless she wanted me to 'encourage' him to start reciting them every English class, she would back off and accept the perfectly logical explanation I had just been nice enough to give her without a visit from Old Betsy and The Five Avengers as a bonus for ticking me off." She smiled. "Nothing to it."

Phoebe blinked and smiled. "_Very_ shrewd, Helga. An excellent bluff."

Helga chuckled. "_Please_—with how obsessed Curly is I wouldn't be surprised if it really _was_ true."

Lila smiled. "Oh, wouldn't it just be ever so precious, though, if he really was writing poetry for her? I think it's very romantic for a boy to write poetry for a girl he likes, don't _you_, Arnold?" she giggled slightly at suddenly putting him on the spot.

Arnold just blinked and blushed, and glanced away from everybody.

Feeling _herself_ blushing at this sudden comment about Arnold's poem, Helga cleared her throat and placed an arm around Lila's shoulders, trying to change the subject. "Hey, hey—we can giggle and gossip and say embarrassing things about old Football Head at Olga's sleepover next Saturday." She glanced over at Phoebe. "You're invited too, by the way, Pheebs. I need _some_ anchor of sanity for that night." She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Anyway, right now I just want the biggest sundae imaginable from Slausen's and then to go to sleep. This weekend has _killed_ me!" She stretched up and yawned, and then looked at Arnold. "You still up for heading there, Football Head?

Arnold blinked, still trying to control his embarrassment. "Huh?"

Helga yawned again, trying to continue her seemingly casual tone. "You remember: a dark space, trying to find a way out of this mess, and then something about Slausen's and never having to see another rat again? Sounded like a pretty good idea to me. You in?"

"Uh...yeah."Arnold couldn't help the hesitation in his voice. Certainly, after the events of the last three days, he was in the mood for a treat too but…the person who was asking him to get one with her was the same person who'd practically said she never wanted to see him again twenty four hours ago. And what would their classmates do if they suddenly saw them together again? "Are you sure you want to go with me, though, Helga? I mean…"

Helga rolled her eyes, scowling. "Well, I wouldn't have _asked_ you if I didn't mean it, paste-for-brains. Sheesh, it's _ice cream_—quit over analyzing it so much!"

"But what if we run into one of the other kids and—"

"Well," Helga put her hands on her hips, "they're all going to be at Gerald Field for the next hour, in case you forgot, Arnoldo. And, even if they _do_ pass by or something, I _was_ planning to make it a group thing, Casanova." She turned to the others, ignoring the quick blush that came to Arnold's slightly miffed face at her last comment. "Phoebe, Gerald, Lila, Brainy!" Everyone was almost surprised to hear Brainy's name—ever since his assistance with the poem it was like he'd suddenly disappeared into the background. "You guys wanna come too? I mean, you'll have to miss practice but, with all of the running around we've been doing lately, I think we've earned it."

Phoebe looked questioningly at Helga, almost like she was trying to ascertain whether she really wanted them all to come with her to Slausen's or if she was just trying to cover up her desire to be alone with Arnold again. Seeing this look, Helga did her best to give her best friend a slight nod to communicate the sincerity of her invitation. "_Seriously_."

Phoebe smiled in understanding. "Certainly, Helga, I'd love to. Gerald," she addressed him, "would you care to join me?"

He smiled at her. "Uh, sounds good…"

"Lila?" asked Helga again.

Lila let out a deep sigh. "Actually, if it's okay, Helga, I think I really would ever so prefer to go home and take a nap, like I told Rhonda before. I'm not used to so much…_lying_… It's ever so difficult." She had a distressed look on her face.

Helga put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Hey, it takes a strong stomach and years of practice. Just go and rest up and do a few random good deeds, watch some after school specials, and I'm sure you'll be fine in no time to start coming up with things to put me through next weekend that'll make me regret new little friendship we've got going on." She winked.

Lila giggled and headed toward the door. "Oh, Helga--Olga's right, you always say the funniest things." She turned back to the other kids. "Goodnight, everyone!" She glanced back at Helga. "And, Helga, tell Olga I really am looking ever so forward to seeing her Saturday night!"

Helga rolled her eyes. "Oh, believe me, she's already crossing off the days on a calendar and I'm sure you'll get an excited phone call from her the second you get home to start planning the chaos."

Lila laughed at this comment. "Oh, Helga, I'm sure we can make it an ever so fun night for all of us!" She glanced at Phoebe. "And I'm oh too certain we'll love having you help us as well, Phoebe." She addressed the greater group again. "Well, have fun at Slausen's everyone! See you tomorrow!" And, with that, she exited into the hallway.

As she departed, Helga turned to Brainy. "How about you, Brainy? You interested?" She swallowed hard, trying to maintain her casual voice as she added, "In getting ice cream, I mean?"

"Uh…" he glanced away nervously, "…no…"

Helga just closed her eyes and nodded, and then turned back to the greater group.

Gerald clapped his hands together, a smile on his face. "Okay, so, ice cream it is! Now, let's head out because I am _itching_ for anything covered in chocolate syrup and smothered in whipped cream!"

He, Phoebe and Arnold approached the door.

"Um…you guys go on ahead. I've just gotta take care of one quick thing, okay? I'll meet you outside," Helga suddenly announced, glancing away from them.

The three of them turned to face her with raised eyebrows.

Suddenly, Phoebe's eyes landed on Brainy who was still standing quietly in the corner. "Of course," she replied to her best friend. She smiled and looked at the two boys beside her. "Come on, Arnold, Gerald: let's leave Helga alone for a few moments. We can…decide on what we're going to order while we wait." She walked out of the classroom door.

Gerald just shrugged and headed out right behind her. "Sounds good to me."

Arnold began to follow after them as well, but couldn't help looking back once more to a blasé looking Helga (though, it seemed to him, she was probably trying to cover up how she was really feeling right now) and a timid looking Brainy. He suddenly found himself stepping back in the room. He smiled at Helga and began in a hesitant voice, not sure exactly why he was returning, "Is there anything I can help with, Helga?"

Helga raised an eyebrow at his unexpected reentrance. She glanced at Brainy and then back to Arnold. Finally, she approached her beloved and led him back to the door. "Arnold," she began in a low voice, "I…I think it's better if I talk to him alone…okay?" She looked into his eyes.

Arnold knew that she probably knew what was best in this situation. After all, it seemed obvious to him that Brainy felt something for Helga, especially since he had hidden in his closet the other day to make sure she was okay, and then just now went through the trouble of risking his reputation all to help her. "Okay, Helga…" he replied in a tone of acceptance, though there was a touch of hesitation to it as well.

She smiled at him and reentered the room. Arnold lingered for just another second, and then finally began his journey down the hall to join Gerald and Phoebe. As he walked, though, despite the fact that he was certain that Helga was just going to thank Brainy and let him down gently, he couldn't help but recall a month ago when he had been on Helga's current side of a confession...and some of the events of that particular incident… And, for some reason, glancing back once more, Arnold suddenly found it incredibly difficult to leave Helga alone with Brainy…

* * *

Helga, having just finished seeing Arnold out, now turned back to the other boy in the room. She took a deep breath and smiled at him. "Hey, Brainy."

"Uh…" She could tell he was incredibly nervous: his wheeze actually sounded fearful and he was even cringing slightly, as though preparing to face the biggest Helga G. Pataki blow-up of all or something now that they were alone. "Uh…hi…" he managed to get out, glancing away from her with a blush on his cheeks.

She walked toward him, still smiling kindly. "Don't worry, Brainy—I'm not going to hit you or anything. Sorry I blew up at you in Arnold's room yesterday, by the way." She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I was just a little stressed out and then you fell out of the closet and I just…didn't expect it." She tried to laugh to ease the awkwardness of the mood. "Like I said, I'm more used to you showing up when I talk _about_ Arnold, not _to_ him."

This small joke seemed to make Brainy relax a bit. Now, he just looked at her unsurely...like he accepted that her response to what he'd just done about Arnold's poem wouldn't be anger but, at the same time, sill had no clue exactly where this conversation was going to go.

Helga cleared her throat and continued in her sincere voice. "Anyway, I just wanted to say…thanks, for back there… I mean, for telling them that you wrote Arnold's poem. If it wasn't for you I don't think my secre—" she hesitated, "well, I don't think they would've _ever_ left us alone…"

"Uh…" Brainy glanced away from Helga, blushing slightly again. "You're…welcome…"

Helga took a few steps forward and then turned around, seating herself on top of one of the student desks. Her hands were pressed firmly against the desk top and her legs dangled to the floor. "You know…I also heard that you might have hit Harold yesterday just so he and all the other kids would apologize to me… That was really swee—" She suddenly recalled one of the conversations between her and Arnold in the air vents, and how this situation could be a little similar. She corrected herself slightly. "…That was really _nice_ of you, Brainy…" She glanced away.

Brainy didn't say anything, though his wheezing became distinctly shakier.

Helga swung her legs a bit and glanced down. "Brainy…I know all that 'crush' stuff that they were saying before was just because you said the poem was yours, but…do you...maybe…" Helga could _not_ bring herself to say the word 'love', "…actually like me-like me…a little?"

Brainy backed a bit away from her. He tugged at his collar, a cold sweat starting to form near the neckline. "Uh…"

Helga couldn't help the half smile that came to her face at the nervous reaction….and she likewise couldn't help the abundance of sympathy she was suddenly feelings for the obviously flustered geek in front of her. She took a deep breath and hopped down from the desk. She stepped closer to Brainy and crossed her arms in front of her chest, glancing down. "Brainy…" she began slowly, trying to choose her words carefully, "I understand how you feel but…" she swallowed hard: no matter how many people knew, it never seemed to get easier to flat out say these words, "I love Arnold." She glanced at him. "You _know_ that…I mean, you must hear me give all those random monologues and hatch all those crazy schemes…right?"

Brainy hesitated, then nodded, a sad look on his face.

Helga sighed. "Brainy, listen…I'm not so good at being on the 'loved' side of a confession but I'm gonna try my best, okay?" She looked at him. "At the very least, I'm going to give you a straight answer so you're not tearing your hair out for weeks wondering what's up like with _some_ people?" She rolled her eyes and briefly nodded her head in the direction of the door by which Arnold had just left the room.

Brainy's eyes traveled in the direction of the door, as well, as she added this last sentence, though he remained silent. He looked back at Helga, still seeming quite tense, to say the least.

Helga looked at him and cleared her throat, reminding herself that now wasn't the time for her usual joking around, and continued. "Brainy…I love Arnold…and I don't love you."

Helga was prepared for sadness, tears, questions, even yelling: after all, if _Arnold_ had responded to _her_ confession in the same way _she_ had just done to _Brainy's_ (of course, with the names 'Brainy' and 'Arnold' replaced with 'Helga' and 'Lila,'), a frown and a few tears or some choice words would have been _the least_ to come from her.

Instead, though, and much to her surprise, Brainy just sighed. "I…know…" Suddenly, he reached into his pocket, pulled out an inhaler and sprayed it two times into his mouth. He cleared his throat and looked at her. "And I think he loves you too. And I want you to be happy. So don't worry about me…I'm…" the wheezing was getting stronger again, "…fine…"

Helga just stared at him, completely dumbstruck. "Brainy…you can _talk_!"

"Uh…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah…"

She began gesticulating with her hands as she spoke in an utterly flabbergasted voice. "Well, why didn't you ever DO it before?! Sheesh, _no_ _wonder_ it took me until this weekend to figure out that you liked me—I've never been able to get more than two words out of you! Why don't you use that thing _all the time_?!"

Brainy shrugged. "Uh…I don't know…"

Helga couldn't help but grin and then burst into laughter at the cliché Brainy response. She managed to get herself under control after a few seconds, though, and put a hand on one of Brainy's shoulders, smiling. "You know, Brainy…if it wasn't for this whole 'Arnold being my true love' thing, I really might consider giving you a shot. You're a little weird sometimes but, basically, you're alright…" She glanced away, removing her hand from him and using it to rub the back of her neck sheepishly. "Kind of remind me of myself, actually."

She looked back at him and noticed, with relief, that he was finally smiling, now, too. She offered him her hand for a shake. "So…friends?"

She noticed a hesitation on his face. Helga considered for a second, then added, "On _your_ terms, though…I know it can be a little hard to spend time around someone you care about who just wants to be your friend." She glanced to the door again for a second, then shook her head to clear it and turned back to Brainy. "If you want to keep hanging around me and showing up during my Arnold monologues, that's great. If you need a break, that's fine too… You just do whatever you have to…whatever makes you happy." She smiled at him.

He smiled back and finally took her hand.

They finished shaking, and Helga cleared her throat and looked at him again. "And I'll try and cut down on the face punches, okay?" She gave him an impressed smile. "Though, from what I heard, it seems like you put your experience with them to good use with Harold."

Brainy blushed. Then, to her surprise, Helga noticed a touch of worry come to his face. "Uh…" He had to take a few breaths to prepare get this one out. "I…don't mind…it…actually…"

Helga raised an eyebrow. "You don't mind that I hit you?"

Brainy blushed again but didn't say anything.

It took Helga a second but, suddenly, she couldn't help but blush herself as she realized that he probably felt like the 'sockings' represented some kind of relationship between them or something: kind of like his version of her randomly slamming into Arnold at street corners or getting suddenly hugged by him for doing something he liked. She sighed and smiled at him, crossing her arms over her chest and replying in a casual voice, "Whatever floats your boat, Brainy… I'll just try and hit a little softer so that I don't break or bruise anything." She winked.

Brainy smiled.

"Besides," she added, smiling sheepishly, "I probably wouldn't be able to control myself very much if you surprised me, anyway."

He laughed slightly and so did she.

"So," she gestured toward the door with her thumb, "are you sure you don't want to get ice cream with us? My treat."

Brainy smiled but shook his head. "No…thanks…Arnold's waiting…"

Helga smiled slightly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Okay…I'll…see you around, Brainy."

She went to turn around but, suddenly, she felt his hand grabbing her arm. She turned, an eyebrow raised. Her eyes went wide as she saw, dangling from a chain in Brainy's free hand, her (slightly scuffed) Arnold locket.

Helga instantly blushed a bright red. It was one thing admitting to him that she did indeed love Arnold, but even Arnold (heck, even _Phoebe_) didn't know about the Arnold locket.

"Found…this…in…the closet…"

She just blinked at it and then looked to Brainy. "Uh…th-thank you…Brainy…" She reached forward slowly and took from him the chain bearing her locket.

She was about to put it in its usual spot around her neck, but then hesitated. "Brainy?" She wasn't looking at him.

"…Yeah…?"

"Did you mean what you said before? Do you really think that he…loves me too?" she asked quietly.

Brainy hesitated. Finally he took a deep breath and spoke. "Yes…"

Helga took a breath and then slipped the locket around her neck and hid it safely under her jumper. "Thanks…" She smiled gratefully at him.

There was a moment of silence between them.

"Well…" she glanced down, still feeling a little embarrassed, "I…guess I should get going..."

She went to turn back toward the door once more when, suddenly, she felt something that made her heart skip a beat and her face blush warmly: Brainy had just stepped forward and given her a quick kiss on the cheek. She touched the spot and turned back to him, her eyes wide. He was just looking down and blushing furiously. "Goodbye…Helga…"

For a second she didn't know how to react. But then, seeing him standing there so worried-looking, and thinking to herself about how much courage it must have taken for him to do something like that to a person who gave him multiple black eyes each week, Helga couldn't help but feel a great deal of sympathy wash over her…as well as some déjà vous. She smiled at him. "You know, Brainy…you're the bravest person I know."

He raised an eyebrow at the comment, though he didn't respond. She slowly entered the doorframe and glanced back once more, a slight smile on her lips. "Goodbye too, Brainy…at least until my next monologue." She winked.

He smiled at the kindness in her voice and the slight joke, and glanced up at her, making eye contact before she managed to slip out of the door.

'_Now I know what Arnold feels like…_' Helga thought to herself with a tremendous mental sigh as she finally exited the classroom and walked down the hall. '_Not feeling the same way about the person who loves you and trying to let them down gently even though you like them… This seriously __blows__._' She sighed aloud this time. _'Oh well, at least he seemed to take it okay. Heck, that was his confession and his rejection all in one and all he did was kiss me on the cheek—he's got a lot more self control than I do, I'll give him that._' She recalled her one-sided kiss with Arnold during her confession…and then her mind wandered back to the slightly mutual kiss between them in the closet. '_I don't know…I'm starting to get the feeling that Arnold's never going to just flat out reject me, though… I don't know if Brainy's right about him loving me back or anything…and if he's wrong then I'm not really sure what it is Arnold wants instead, exactly...especially since now he sounds like he's okay with me maybe not being comfortable spending time around him..._' She recalled that little 'if you want to' disclaimer he had tacked onto his invitation to her back in the air vents to pop in the next time she was sneaking around the Boarding House. Helga sighed to herself once more, a determined look coming to her face. '…_B__ut maybe now that this mess is over I can finally get to the bottom of it once and for all…'_

_

* * *

_

"Hey."

Helga had been deep in thought while walking down the hall (and also a bit distracted by trying to casually sneak past Principle Wartz, Mr. Simmons and now the janitor, who were all attempting to deal with Curly thrusting a broom handle at them like a saber and yelling "En guarde, plebs! You will not stop me in my epic quest to prove my love for Rhonda OR lead my animal brethren to liberty—both integral parts of my plans for world domination!!!"). At the sound of someone addressing her, though, Helga suddenly blinked and looked up. She had been heading in the direction of the school doors to rejoin her friends, as planned. However, to her surprise she noticed Arnold standing alone at the end of the hallway she'd just reached, leaning against a corner.

She stopped in surprise. "Uh…hey," she said back.

He just smiled and moved away from the wall.

She looked around, an eyebrow raised. "So…where are Gerald and Phoebe?"

Arnold rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away from her. "Oh…I told them to go on ahead outside…" Silence. "I…just wanted to see if things were okay…"

Helga continued to observe him warily, unsure of what he was getting at. "You mean, with Brainy? I thanked him for helping us out back there… Not much that can go wrong with that, Football Head."

Arnold cleared his throat and started walking toward the doors. Helga followed. "I just meant…" he rubbed the back of his neck again and looked at her, "well, we were talking yesterday about how it seems like he might like you-like you, and I guess I just wanted to know….did he take it okay?" Helga didn't respond, still looking at him with incomprehension on her face_._ Arnold, realizing that he wasn't being very clear, took a breath and tried to phrase his question better. "I-I mean that you don't…you know…feel the same way?"

Helga raised an eyebrow again. There was something strange about the way in which Arnold was acting as he asked this question, though she couldn't put her thumb on it. "Well…" she started slowly, "it was kind of a private thing, to be honest, Football Head." She gave him a little nudge with her elbow. "And I don't want to 'betray anyone's trust' or anything." She had expected to get a smile out of him by recalling _his_ reason for not telling anyone about _her_ confession without her permission. However, much to her surprise, he merely glanced away. The look on his face appeared to be a mixture of melancholy and…annoyance?

She cleared her throat and continued. "Anyway…let's just say that from the point of view of the confessor," she pointed her thumb to herself, "it was a lot better handled and thought out than mine, and from the point of view of the confessee," she pointed to Arnold, "it was, (again, in my opinion), a lot less awkward and a lot less confusing, with a lot more closure." She shrugged. "Overall, I think I did pretty good considering the fact that I never actually prepared to be on the other side of something like that…and he seemed okay with everything." She smiled at Arnold.

She wasn't sure what it was she had said but, after a second of seeming to consider her words, the smile returned to Arnold's face. "Oh…good…"

"Yeah." She chuckled, still feeling a little nervous. "Guess I finally got a taste of my own medicine, right, Football Head?"

Arnold chuckled as well. "Well…I think you need someone's confession to end with a surprise kiss to really get the _full_ experience." Arnold looked to Helga, expecting her to blush slightly in that way she always did, but laugh with him again, nonetheless.

Instead, he saw her blush slightly and _avoid eye contact with him_. "Uh…yeah…right."

He raised an eyebrow. "Helga…?"

"What?" she asked with a touch of nerves to her voice.

Arnold found himself scowling at her. "He didn't…he didn't—you know…" He glanced down. "I mean…"

Helga cleared her throat and tried to resume her usual scowl. "Look, Arnold…we're getting pretty close to that whole 'betraying someone's trust' thing, here…"

She glanced at him and blinked at the look on his face. He almost seemed angry, though she couldn't figure out why.

"I'm just saying," he looked to her again, "that if he knows that you…you know, _love_ me and that you don't _love_ him, but he…kissed you anyway." He paused, glancing away. "Well, then…I don't know, I'd be a little upset with him…" he blinked and cleared his throat, "…If I were you, I mean."

Helga scowled. There was something about this line of questioning that she was starting to like less and less. "You know, Arnold, if I'd wanted an interrogation I would have thrown myself to our class back there instead of fixing that little mess that you started. And as for me and Brainy, well, _I_ kissed _you_ when I knew _you_ liked _Lila_ and that you couldn't stand _me,_ and I did it on the _lips_—he just pecked me on the _cheek_!"

"Oh, Helga, I've always _liked_ you!" he replied with exasperation.

Suddenly, Arnold blinked and looked up as he realized what he'd just said. "I mean—what I mean is I've never 'not been able to stand you'…I've _always_ thought of you as a friend and liked you. And as for Lila, well, like you said yesterday, there's a difference between an old crush like the one I had on her and how you feel about me." Suddenly, though, the last sentence of what she had just said finally sunk in, and his voice lost its tone of annoyance. "Wait, he just kissed you on the _cheek_?"

"…_Yeah_?" Helga replied slowly, still scowling, in a tone that said 'so what's your point?' At this point they had reached the doors, and she pushed one of them open, allowing her and Arnold outside.

Arnold smiled and even laughed slightly to himself. "Oh…well, then why are we even fighting about it?"

The sudden shift in his attitude suddenly brought to Helga's mind the word she had been trying to pinpoint as describing his strange behavior. "I don't know, Arnold…maybe because you're acting really, _really_ jealous about it?" She was seriously trying to keep a surprised grin from forming on her face.

Arnold blinked. "I'm not _jealous_." He tried to hold a laugh back, and continued smiling. "I just don't think he should put you in an uncomfortable position by suddenly kiss-kissing you, that's all. But a kiss on the cheek's not _that_ big of deal, right?"

Helga shrugged. "Okay." She smiled to herself. "Then it shouldn't matter that I told him that, if it wasn't for you, I'd probably be his girlfriend right now."

That one made Arnold stop, a blank expression coming to his face. Helga just continued walking.

Arnold took a few quick steps forward to catch up with her. "Well, of course it _matters_… I mean…" he glanced down, "you obviously have _some_ kind of feelings for him if you said that… And if you liked it when he kissed you, then—"

Helga sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes, stopping as they reached the bottom of the steps and finally made it to the sidewalk. "You know, Arnold, I'm really starting to think that _I'm_ not the _only_ basket case in the fourth grade!" She scowled at him, her hands on her hips. "Seriously, Football Head, if you're jealous just admit it—it's _okay_! I mean, you _are _used to me giving you a lot of attention, especially lately… It makes sense if you feel weird about someone coming along and trying to change that."

Arnold scowled. "Well, why should I care if you love Brainy, all of a sudden? I mean…you can love whoever you _want_…" He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "So what if _I'm_ the one who you said has always been there for you and 'never left you alone.' " He recalled her words from the brief fight they'd had in the classroom before. "Brainy's just _what_—followed you around in secret for years?"

"Yeah, and I wonder why I might have a small soft spot for _that_?!" she challenged.

"Hey, guys!" Gerald suddenly called out to them, standing next to Phoebe and waving from the corner about twenty feet away. He'd actually been trying to wave them over for a good minute or two since seeing them exit the building, but whatever conversation they were having seemed to be getting really heated…

Helga turned and, seeing her best friend, she gave Arnold a quick "Hmph!" and walked toward her. Still looking a little unhappy, Arnold walked after her.

Gerald and Phoebe looked to each other with raised eyebrows at this little display, and then turned back to Arnold and Helga. As the two blondes neared, Gerald smiled in an attempt to alleviate the obviously tense mood between them. He stepped forward and asked playfully, "Hey, so, now that the heat's off, what exactly happened in that closet before, and how in the _heck_ did you get to Simmons' room from there, anyway?"

At this question, Arnold and Helga briefly lost their angry looks and both blushed slightly.

Gerald looked back and forth between the two of them. "Oh, come on, guys—you've gotta give me _something_!" He crossed his arms over his chest and gave them a look. "I mean, you managed to get out of there and into our classroom without using _doors_. Seriously, right now I've got a ten dollar bet with Phoebe that Helga's a witch."

Helga glared at him darkly. Gerald cleared his throat and held up his hands defensively. "I mean like a witch with powers because you magically went from the closet to the classroom… Not, you know, a witch in general." He smiled sheepishly, though inside he couldn't help but add to himself, '_Although_…'

Helga sighed in annoyance and rolled her eyes, but let the comment go.

"So…the closet? What happened, again, exactly?" Normally, after a near-miss like that with Helga, Gerald would have given her some breathing room. However, he was _seriously_ curious about how his best friend and the girl who loved him had managed to defy several laws of physics just over half an hour ago.

Reminded of the initial question, Arnold and Helga shifted uncomfortably and glanced down again, which only raised Gerald's curiosity. Finally, Arnold looked to Helga almost like he was trying to find guidance as to what he should say.

Seeing this look (and still being a little angry with him), Helga just scowled and rolled her eyes. "Hey, Football Head, I already told you that you have my permission to talk to Gerald about whatever you want: you take it from there! I mean, sheesh, I'm obviously gonna talk to Phoebe later about stuff we did today but I'm not going to send you a memo asking your advice about what I should say, or anything. Crimeny, think for yourself!"

The look of annoyance returned to Arnold's face. He continued to glare at her for a second, and then turned and walked forward past Gerald and Phoebe. He turned back, looked to his best friend, and said in a level voice with a tone obviously intended to see Helga's challenge and raise it, "She almost hit me. We talked and fought and fell. A lot. Then we snuck into the air vents to get to the classroom. I find out some _interesting_ things about what she's been doing with her spare time over the last seven years. Oh, and she kissed me. _On the mouth_. Just like I told you this morning she did on the roof of the FTi building after she confessed her 'undying' love to me." And, with that, Arnold continued walking forward, not even glancing at Helga.

Helga just stood there watching him with her mouth open in total shock at his sudden bluntness. Phoebe looked to her with concern. Gerald glanced back and forth from Helga to his friend, who had now stopped a few feet away and turned to face them, arms crossed over his chest. Finally, Arnold turned his sights to Helga and, to his surprise, thought he saw what appeared to be slight smile trying to come to her agape mouth.

After several seconds, Helga shook her head a few times to clear it and finally spoke… an almost impressed tone in her voice. "Touche, Football Head…_Touche_…" She walked forward to him and put a hand on his shoulder, a slightly stunned expression still on her face. "Except for that tango at the April Fools Dance and a few other small things this past weekend, I think that's the first time you've ever really stood up to me…" She seemed to consider for a moment, and then her face took on a look like she couldn't quite believe what she was admitting. "I like it." And with that she walked forward. "It better not start being a regular thing, or anything, and I _am_ still ticked off at you about before with Brainy... But I _do_ like it," she finished. Arnold just blinked, very surprised by this unexpected reaction.

Phoebe and Gerald just stared at each other in confusion for a second. Then Phoebe blinked and a sudden look of realization came into her eyes. "Helga, wait a minute—you took him up into the _vents_ with you?!" she asked her best friend with a touch of shock.

Helga turned around and shrugged. "Yup…only way out of that closet without using the door."

"But Helga, wasn't that _dangerous_? I mean, haven't you only ever tried something like that a couple of times? And it had to be even harder with two people and in a building as large as the school. And how did you manage to get to Mr. Simmons' room?"

Helga waved her off. "Eh, I'll tell you all about it later, Pheebs. And maybe you can explain to me how the heck the door handle came off the janitor's closet," she added with genuine confusion, scratching her head. Phoebe blushed slightly and glanced away. Helga turned back to Arnold. "And _see,_ Football Head—'only ever tried something like that a couple of times.'" She repeated Phoebe's words. "I_ told_ you I wasn't a 'regular in your walls' or anything."

Gerald just looked at all three of them with utter perplexity and then finally sighed to himself shaking his head. "Okay, this whole weekend has just been plain _weird_. Now, come on, guys, let's just get some ice cream like normal kids before I accidentally find out even more things that make no sense to me all because I wanted to know Helga's 'secret.' " He walked forward past all three of them, determinedly leading the way.

* * *

"Hey, I'm gonna go get a malted to wash down the banana split? Anyone else with me?" Gerald looked at the three other people in his booth, a smile on his face.

"Ugh," Helga moaned and stretched, "Geraldo, I'm normally a fan of excessive amounts of ice cream, but how can you _still_ be hungry? We got the same order and it was the biggest thing on the menu!"

"Hey, after what you've put me through this weekend I could have_ three_ banana splits and I'd _still_ be starving," he joked.

She smiled. "Yeah, well, I think I'm gonna call it a day—I barely even ate anything this morning, but five scoops is _more_ than enough for me."

Gerald turned to his right. "Phoebe, you want anything else?"

Phoebe wiped her mouth with a napkin and placed it in the small sundae glass before her. "No, thank you, Gerald… I'm quite full."

He turned forward. "Arnold, you want anything? Come on," he urged, "I know you could use a root beer float or something to finish up a day like this one."

Arnold smiled. "Yeah…I could go for that, I guess." He hesitated for a second, then cleared his throat. "Do you want anything, Helga?" he asked slowly.

A scowl came to Helga's face and she turned away from him. "Just said I _didn't_, didn't I, Football Head?" she replied with an obvious tenseness to her voice.

Arnold just sighed, a miffed look on his face. "Fine." He slid out of the booth. "Come on Gerald, let's go."

"Uh, right behind you." He slid out of the booth and followed after Arnold.

* * *

"Okay, Arnold, seriously, what were you and Helga fighting about before, exactly? And why did you say all that stuff in front of her when we were walking?" The boys had just reached the counter and ordered their drinks.

Arnold sighed and sat down on one of the stools, resting his head on one of his hands. "It's nothing. I was just angry and when she told me to think for myself I guess I just kind of…snapped."

Gerald sat down on the stool next to him. "Yeah, but, why were you angry at her in the first place? Seriously, for the past three days you haven't been happy unless you've been ARNOUND Helga, and now it's just like the old days—you two can't stand each other."

"Gerald," Arnold leaned both of his elbows on the counter and looked at his best friend, "It's _not_ that I can't stand her now…it's just..." He sighed again. "I don't know, I guess I just overreacted about the Brainy thing."

Gerald raised an eyebrow. "Why would you be mad about the Brainy thing? He SAVED you guys. Man, if it wasn't for him, you and Helga would _still_ be in that classroom trying to talk your way out of everything."

"I'm not angry that he helped us…" Arnold crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I just didn't realize how much he really likes Helga."

Gerald's eyes widened. "Wait, you mean that wasn't part of the story…He actually like-likes Helga?"

Arnold sighed in frustration, his scowl returning. "Well, according to Helga he's always following her around, and then when she asked him about it in the classroom he admitted it and he kissed her on the cheek." He looked to Gerald, his voice growing more and more annoyed-sounding. "And then she told me that she actually would have tried liking him back if it wasn't for me. Can you believe that?"

Gerald was just staring at his friend with a raised eyebrow. As Arnold finished his rant, though, Gerald grabbed his shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes, speaking to him slowly. "Arnold…it's Brainy…and it's HELGA." Arnold blinked. Gerald continued. "_Brainy_—who never says two words, and _Helga_—who hits him at least three times a day. And, also, _Helga_—who you keep saying you _don't_ love, if I remember correctly. Why are you jealous?"

Arnold's face took on a look of frustration and he removed himself from Gerald's grasp. "I am not _jealous_. I'm just saying…" He sighed again and now a distressed look appeared on his face. "I don't know…okay, fine, maybe I was being a _little_ jealous…I guess I just never really thought of her liking someone else…" Arnold briefly flashed back to Saturday morning when he'd thought Helga's 'date' was with someone else instead of him, and how that had made him feel similar to how he did now, though not quite as strongly. He shook his head to clear it and came back to his current situation. "I don't know…everything that's happened lately just has me confused. And now, on top of it all, suddenly she's acting like she wants to spend time with me again—"

"Okay, now I'm _really_ confused!" Gerald interrupted him. "Weren't you the one who told me that you _wanted_ to spend time with her? So, now she wants to hang out with you too—that's a _good_ thing, right?"

"Well, yeah…" Arnold looked unsure, "but it…it worries me, I guess…because I don't know if…"

Gerald could sense that he was holding something back. "_If_…?"

Arnold glanced away. "...If she's okay with being around me now because…because she doesn't love me anymore."

Gerald blinked at the sudden change that came over his best friend's face as he admitted this fear: he'd never seen Arnold look so…unhappy.

"I mean," Arnold continued, glancing back in the direction of their table where Helga and Phoebe were talking, "I know she still cares about me, but she was so positive yesterday that her feelings were so strong that we couldn't even be around each other _at all_ unless I liked her back. But, now, she seems completely fine with spending time with me, and I don't understand what's changed to make us suddenly getting ice cream together okay… But what if it's her feelings, Gerald?" He glanced back at his best friend, a very concerned look in his eyes. "I mean, that's the only thing it could be, right? What if I upset her so much with everything that's happened this weekend that she's not in love with me anymore the same way she used to be?"

Gerald just observed his obviously distressed best friend for a second, taking in this strange problem that was suddenly bothering him so much. Finally, he spoke slowly and sincerely to Arnold once again. "Arnold…listen, I know you like Helga and want her to be your friend, and that you care about how she feels, but I really think that you need to consider the possibility that you might be—"

"But that's just it, Gerald!" Arnold looked at him, even more desperation and confusion suddenly in his eyes. "I _don't _just...want her to be my friend. I—" he glanced back at the table again where Helga and Phoebe were still smiling and chatting, "I mean, I want to be _her_ friend but I don't just want her to be mine." He looked back at Gerald. "I think that…I think that I like that she loves me, Gerald: loves me enough to always get nervous around me and to write poems about me and to do anything just to make me happy and keep me safe. I like it a lot." He paused and dropped his wide head upon his arms on the countertop, sighing. "I really _am_ selfish, aren't I? It's like she said yesterday—I just want to keep getting attention from her even if it messes her up worse than ever."

Gerald considered everything his best friend had just said to him. Finally, he took a breath and responded, placing a hand on one of Arnold's shoulders. "Arnold…I don't know why Helga suddenly asked you to go get ice cream back at school, okay? But I do know one thing—you obviously have some serious feelings for this girl, and, if you don't start dealing with them, then this crazy problem-creating conflict between you two is just going to keep going on and getting worse. Now, listen…" he looked his best friend seriously in the face, "first of all, I wouldn't worry about her not loving you like she used to. According to you, she kissed you an hour ago in a closet just like she did when she confessed to you, so I think you're safe." He noticed with relief a small smile actually come to Arnold's face at this comment. "Second," he continued, "it's good that you're trying to come to some kind of conclusion about her and about what you want from her, but I think there's something you've gotta face man…" He glanced down again. "So…just hear me out about something, okay?"

He removed his hand from Arnold's shoulder and appeared to be concentrating hard on what he was going to say next. Arnold watched intently. Gerald finally continued. "Okay, while you guys were in the closet, me and Phoebe were talking and…we were thinking that maybe the reason you don't want to like-like Helga is because you don't want things to change between you guys. And if you like-liked her and she like-liked you, things would change _a lot_. So, you don't 'love her' because you're not ready for something like that, yet. But, after everything that's happened and everything you've been through together…you don't just 'like' her anymore: you _can't_. I mean, you have to admit that you feel differently about her now than you did a few months ago, right?" Gerald glanced at Arnold who, after a second, nodded slightly in response to this question, though he continued watching him with a blank expression like he couldn't quite understand the point of this sudden argument. Gerald sighed mentally. '_I'm not saying this nearly as well as Phoebe did, am I?_' He considered, and then added slowly, "I guess what I'm trying to say is…your problem is that you're not _NOT in love_ with Helga, but you're not _IN love_ with her…but you kind of _want_ to be. " He hesitated, and then a smile suddenly came to his face as a helpful phrase came to mind. "It's like you're FALLING in love with her. And you want to explain that to Helga but she's just waiting for you to say that you love her or you hate her, and you can't pick between those two because it's what's in the middle of them." He looked to Arnold for a response to his rendition of this theory that Phoebe had introduced to him back in the hallway.

Arnold just sat there, unmoving, like he was trying to process something.

Gerald raised an eyebrow in concern. "Arnold…you okay?"

Arnold didn't respond. His pensive look continued.

"Arnold…?" Gerald smiled slightly. "Look, man, I know you're getting a little sick of people saying you've got something for Helga but, like I said, it's just a theory."

"Here you go, boys!"

A server placed a root beer float and a chocolate malted in front of Arnold and Gerald.

Gerald hopped down off the stool. "Hey, I've got to run to the bathroom—can you take mine back to the booth with you?"

Arnold continued to say nothing, that pensive look still in his eyes, though he did nod slowly to the request to show he understood it.

Gerald still had a worried look on his face at this strange silence of Arnold's. "Okay, man… Thanks…" With just a bit of hesitation, he went off in the direction of the bathroom.

Arnold felt himself grab the drinks and turn in the direction of the table. His eyes fell on Helga.

He approached the table a bit slower than necessary, a very new idea in his head weighing down his thoughts considerably. As Arnold got closer, though, the sound of his name suddenly caught his ears and he found himself slowing down deliberately now and moving just out of sight to hear the rest of the girls' conversation.

* * *

"…So, then, Arnold and I turn around and there's about a million more rats behind us, and we both kind of lost it a little and crashed through the vent grate and landed on the floor of _Simmons' room_, of all places!" Helga laughed as she finished telling the story, and Phoebe couldn't help giggling as well. "I'll tell you, Pheebs, I have _never_ fallen out of a ceiling and landed any place luckier in my life."

Phoebe laughed more. "Well, I certainly am glad that you were both that fortunate, Helga."

Helga smiled and leaned back. "Yeah. You know, Phoebe, it really is a funny world. I mean, I could _not_ have seen all of this insanity coming from me just helping Arnold with some homework in a _million_ years. And, not that it hasn't had its good parts, but I hope this isn't some kind of sign of things to come because I AM _EXHAUSTED_."

Phoebe smiled. "Well, if you're considering the possibility of future adventures coupled with your asking Arnold to come here with us before, I take it that you've decided to continue spending time with him despite your previous doubts?" Normally, Phoebe was always very hesitant about asking Helga any extra questions about her feelings for Arnold, and never did she use his actual name instead of their code word, 'ice cream.' Yet, over the last day or so, Helga seemed to have gotten much more comfortable with bringing up the subject of her beloved with her best friend, and so Phoebe had decided to try doing likewise. In addition, something told her that this sudden openness on Helga's part was good for her, and should be encouraged whenever possible.

To Phoebe's dismay, though, she saw Helga's smile falter. The blonde glanced away, yet (to Phoebe's relief) she did respond to the question. "Phoebe," the tone of Helga's voice had fallen slightly from its previous joviality, "I-I know it would be better for me to stay away from him but I just…don't want to." She glanced up, a slight smile returning. "And now that he knows everything, spending time around him isn't just some kind of secret thrill…it actually make me feel really happy." Her smile was growing. "I have fun when I'm with him. I mean," the smile dropped again, "I still wish he felt the same way about me…. But, you know…" she paused, "sometimes…sometimes he says something or does something and, I know this might just be the unrequited love talking, but it's like he actually _does_ more than just like me even if he doesn't 'love' me." A confused look came to her face and she glanced up at her best friend. "I can't exactly describe it… It's…weird."

Phoebe smiled slightly at the response. "Yes, well, especially after hearing his poem this afternoon, I can see how you would be lead to that conclusion."

Helga let out a disappointed sigh and glanced out the window of the ice cream shop.

Phoebe blinked. "Helga, you got to hear his poem for you, of course, didn't you?"

Helga shook her head. "No…I was in the bathroom when it got read, and I tried to get him to let me look at it when Simmons handed it back to him, but it was making him nervous and I know what that feels like so I didn't want to push him too much." She looked back at Phoebe and grinned. "I even fed him some random excuse about how I needed it so that I could see how much 'damage control' I'd have to do at school for the rest of the week to make up for everyone finding out about it." She laughed to herself for a second. "But…" Helga swallowed hard and continued, "but…I really would love to read it, Phoebe…to have at least SOME idea about how he really feels…" She glanced out of the window again. "You know, he was trying to talk to me about something in the closet, and then again in the classroom but we kept getting interrupted. Something about knowing what I 'really want…' " She blushed slightly. "…I just wish I could see his poem so that I could know if there's even a chance that…" Suddenly, Helga just sighed and smiled to herself, shaking her head. She looked at her best friend. "I'm still just being a basket case, aren't I, Phoebe?"

Phoebe smiled slightly and glanced away. "I'm…not sure that I can agree with that assessment, Helga." She glanced back at her friend, awaiting her response to this observation.

"Yeah, I know, I—" Instantly, the smile fell from Helga's face and her eyes went wide. "What?"

Still smiling, Phoebe opened her mouth to explain. Suddenly, though, she recognized a familiar face out of the corner of her eye. She cleared her throat and turned to him to alert Helga that they had company again. "Oh, hello, Gerald—did you an Arnold successfully get your drinks?"

Helga turned around in surprise at the sound of Arnold's name and she felt herself blush as saw him standing only a few feet behind her, his face also tinged red as though he was embarrassed about something. She also couldn't help but notice that he was giving Gerald a slightly annoyed look.

"Uh…" Gerald took his malted from Arnold and sat down in the booth next to Phoebe, smiling sheepishly. "Yup, just got them and _just_ got over here. Heh, heh…"

Arnold just looked at him and sighed, rolling his eyes. Helga glanced to the side and watched him sit down slowly beside her with his float. She couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be avoiding looking at her. She considered saying something, but decided he was probably still just angry with her because of their fight. Helga sighed and settled for looking out the window again. '_Man, I just hope he didn't hear any of that stuff I was spouting to Phoebe, before. Seriously, I don't know what's up with me, lately, but I am just spilling my guts all over the place.' _She found herself smiling slightly._ 'Still, it feels kind of good to be around a bunch of people who already know my secret—it's nice to have the pressure off of trying to keep it all hidden, for once. I mean, I'm not going to start staring dreamily at old Football Head in front of Gerald and Phoebe, or anything, but at least I don't have to snap at him every eight seconds just to maintain my 'reputation_.' '

As these thoughts passed through her head, Helga had been staring out of the window, completely detached from whatever was going on between the three other people at her table. Suddenly, though, a slight (though very brief) change in the reflection in the glass caught her attention. Her eyes widened at the sight and she turned around to look at Arnold. However, he appeared to be just sipping his soda and laughing slightly at something Gerald was now saying, once again distinctly not looking at her. Helga shook her head to clear it and tried to go back to looking out the window once more, though she couldn't help glancing back at him again and again. She tried to convince herself that it had just been her imagination but…Helga could have sworn that, just for an instant, Arnold had snuck a glance at her and looked at her (just for a second, mind you) like she'd seen him look at girls like Ruth and Lila and Summer so many times before…

* * *

"Well, I'm beat! _And_ stuffed!" Gerald stretched up, yawning. The kids now stood out on the sidewalk in front of Slausen's.

Phoebe glanced at Arnold, who was just watching her and Gerald with a slight smile on his face, and then at Helga, who was eyeing Arnold curiously (as, Phoebe had noticed, she had been doing often during the last segment of their meal together.)

Phoebe stepped forward and addressed Gerald. "Gerald, since you were nice enough to escort me to my house yesterday, would it be possible for me to walk _you_ home this afternoon?"

He blinked and smiled. "Really?"

Phoebe shifted her eyes briefly to Arnold and Helga and then back to Gerald, trying to communicate something to him.

Suddenly, Arnold cleared his throat and stepped forward, smiling. "Yeah, you guys go on ahead. I want to…talk to Helga about something, anyway."

Gerald blinked, finally understanding. "Oh…uh, yeah, sure." He smiled and gestured forward to the dark-haired girl. "After you."

Phoebe giggled. "Thank you, Gerald." She turned back to her other two friends. "Goodnight, Helga. Goodnight, Arnold. We'll see you both tomorrow."

"Um…" Helga glanced nervously in Arnold's direction, a bit surprised by the news that she was suddenly going to be left alone with him again. She turned her eyes back to their best friends. "Okay…I guess…" she finished unsurely. "See you tomorrow." She smiled. "And thanks again, guys…for all your help, I mean."

"Yeah. Thanks, guys." Arnold waved at them with a smile, still not looking at Helga.

"Of course, Arnold." Phoebe smiled.

"No problem, man. See you!" Gerald waved and then he and Phoebe walked down the street, leaving Arnold and Helga alone once again.

The sun was starting to go down (it being around five in the evening, now) and the sky was starting to turn orange and pink. Arnold glanced up at it, smiling. "I guess it's getting a little late, huh?" He looked to the still confused-looking blonde before him. "Would it be okay if I walked you home, Helga?"

She blinked at the tone of the request. It was so…so warm and gentle. Not just a casual question or one that assumed the answer would be 'yes'… He was genuinely asking her permission to walk her home, and he genuinely wanted to do so.

"Sure, Arnold…" Helga replied slowly, and the two began to head up the street in the direction of the Pataki household.

They walked along in silence for a few moments. Finally, Helga cleared her throat and turned to Arnold. "So, uh…what's up, Football Head?"

Arnold continued facing forward. She noticed the grin of his half lidded gaze widen just slightly at the sound of her voice. "Nothing…I just thought we could use a few minutes alone without being interrupted by a bunch of people or trapped somewhere."

Helga laughed. "Yeah, this is definitely a change of pace from the other times we've spent alone over the last few days."

Arnold chuckled. There was silence for another second or two. "So…" he spoke again, still not looking at her, "are you sure hanging out just now was okay with you?" He glanced at her. "I mean, it didn't make you uncomfortable or anything, did it?"

Helga glanced down. "It…it was fine, Football head. Don't worry about it. I'm—dealing with it." She smiled and looked at him. "You're starting to grow on me, you know," she added jokingly.

Arnold laughed and replied without thinking, "Yeah, same here."

Helga felt herself blush at his agreement with her. The blush became stronger as she noticed that Arnold was reacting in the same way to what he had just said. She faced forward again, her eyes a bit wide.

"Still…" Arnold cleared his throat, facing forward again as well, and resuming his former slight smile, "I guess we'll probably need to stay away from each other in school for a little while… You know, just for a few days…until everyone forgets about the poem, I mean."

He noticed Helga frown slightly at the suggestion…and couldn't help but take a little comfort from the reaction. She swallowed and tried to cover it up. "Hey, pretty smart, Football Head—covering your tracks. Not bad for a beginner. You're really starting to pick up on how to do this whole 'crazy scheme' thing." She gave him a playful punch in the shoulder.

Arnold laughed. "Thanks, Helga." He yawned and then continued. "And I'd ask you again to come over to the Boarding House but…I have a feeling that the hard time everyone at school would give us would be nothing compared to what the boarders would say…at least, for a little while." He smiled. "I mean, they were all really sorry about what happened on Sunday, but I don't think they'd be able to resist the boyfriend/girlfriend jokes for very long if we just went right back to spending hours together in my room."

Helga laughed, though out of the corner of his eye Arnold could see a touch of disappointment on her face which, again, gave him a bit of confidence and hope in place of his former doubts about her feelings. "Oh…yeah. That makes sense."

Arnold looked at her, smiling. "Yeah…it all might be for the best, anyway. I think we could both use some time to think about some things."

Helga raised an eyebrow at him.

He sighed and faced forward again. "Helga…about the thing with Brainy, before… I'm…sorry I snapped at you." He took a deep breath. "I should have respected that you didn't want to betray his trust. Besides," he glanced at her, "it wasn't any of my business—I mean, it's not like we're—" His mouth remained open for a second as though he was genuinely trying to come up with the next word. Failing to do so, though, he closed it and turned away from her again, smiling. "Anyway, I'm sorry. You were just trying to be a good friend and I shouldn't have been so…insecure…and jealous," he admitted.

Helga looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Th-thanks…Arnold…"

He stopped walking and smiled at her. "Well, here we are."

He motioned with his head behind him, and Helga realized that they were indeed at her stoop. _'I almost forgot how close my house is to Slausen's. Darn it_.' Despite Helga's initial fears, this talk with Arnold was actually going pretty well, and she almost hated to see it end. She smiled at him. "Well…I guess this is goodnight, then, Football Head. It's been a 'crazy ride.' " She laughed.

Arnold joined in. "Now, Helga," he shook an index finger at her, "remember what you told me in the air vents—_never_ think you're in the clear because then, suddenly, BAMN—" he hesitated. "And then you started saying something else, but I don't think I caught what it was...?" He turned his head slightly to the side, as though awaiting an explanation from her about the last part of what she had started to say back at the school.

Helga walked to the top of her stoop and cleared her throat, trying to laugh it off. "It's…it's not important, Football Head. I don't even really remember, to be honest." She sighed. "Besides, if there _is_ another chapter to this particular insane episode of my life then I'm just going to admit everything to everyone and let the chips fall where they may because _anything_ has to be easier than dealing with _yet another _random complication on top of all the stuff we've been through over the past three days!"

Arnold and Helga both shared a laugh at this statement. Arnold smiled at the girl before him between chuckles. "You know, you're really funny, Helga."

Helga's laughter subsided a bit. She put one of her hands on the handle of her house door and began to turn it. "As usual, Football Head, it takes you forever to figure out the most obvious thing in the wor—"

Her mouth closed and her eyes widened. She turned around to see Arnold a few steps below her. Her breath stopped and her heart beat wildly as she saw him gently holding her other hand in one of his own.

"But, you never know, Helga…about whether or not there's something else coming, I mean…" He glanced up at her and shrugged. "There's always a _chance_…and sometimes it can even be something you really _want_, or something…something you didn't even know that you wanted." He winked. Helga didn't move, she didn't breathe, she didn't say anything.

To her surprise, Arnold hesitated for a second...and then gave a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. He gripped it a little more firmly for an instant and she felt something strange pressed against her palm.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of one of the city buses pulling up at the stop near Helga's house. Arnold glanced back at it and then turned to Helga, removing his hand from hers. "Goodnight, Helga." He took a few steps down the stoop, then hesitated, and (to her complete and total confusion) climbed back up. He looked at her face for a moment, like he was debating something with himself. Then he took a breath and, smiling, leaned up and kissed her right cheek very quickly. He pulled back, glancing away. "Sorry…the Brainy thing was still bothering me a little…" And with that he headed down the stoop and entered the bus. It drove off into the early evening.

Helga had no idea what had just happened. Absolutely. No. Idea. She couldn't even begin to think it through, couldn't even begin to process it. She found her hand that had been gripping the door handle suddenly touching the cheek Arnold's lips had just grazed, and eyes moving to her still extended hand which Arnold had just kissed as well. Suddenly, she recalled that strange feeling on her palm. She turned her hand over and opened it.

A small, folded piece of paper lay there.

Helga reached forward with her other hand and carefully unfolded it. '_Arnold, 4__th__ grade, Mr. Simmons, Poetry Assignment…_' Her eyes went wide at the sight of Arnold's poem in front of her.

* * *

'_Untitled'_

_There's a girl I half know who sat near me one day,  
Though she made me beg to get her there.  
She's always so stubborn about her reputation,  
but for once she almost didn't seem to care._

_I met her when we were both still little.  
I remember something about the color pink,  
And there was rain and she was wet,  
And I said something to her and smiled, I think._

_I think I smile around her a lot, actually,  
Even though she scowls and calls me names.  
__But I've realized lately that I __am__ a little dense,  
So I guess I deserve part of the blame._

_I'm not really sure exactly how I feel about her.  
I don't think I'm in love...but I guess she's not just a friend,  
And I think about what that means all the time  
And I hope I can figure it out before this all ends._

_She's not just a bully who scowls and hits:  
Her poetry and her passion prove that to me.  
She's just a person who's got a lot inside of her…  
In a way, she's someone I wish I could be._

_She knows how she feels and doesn't give up—  
__I__ don't even know whether I like or hate our fights,  
Or all those names she calls me everyday,  
Or that sometimes she's in my dreams at night._

_I guess all of this is why she can't stand me sometimes  
And why she thinks we'd be better off apart--  
Because she knows what she wants, but I don't,  
And that's not very fair to her. It never was from the start._

_She's so great at writing and has made so many things,  
__In a way I'm glad she __can't__ keep it from everyone anymore.  
__She can't hide. And she __should__ be proud of her talents. I know I am…  
I just wish she would stay around, and help me see more._

Warm in her bed, reading quietly to herself by the light of her lamp, Helga concluded Arnold's poem for her. She smiled in the soft light, underneath the moon and stars. And then she got an idea… It was a risky idea. It was a crazy idea. In fact, it was the exact opposite of anything Helga G. Pataki had ever done or would ever have done in terms of Arnold and her secret prior to these last three days. Still, she _had_ been looking for a chance to officially let him know her feelings and to NOT take it back like with her confession…and, besides, considering the poem she currently held in her hands, somehow the irony of this new plan was just too perfect to resist…

Just for a second, Helga thought about going through with it right then and there. But then she considered, and thought over the many conversations she'd had with Arnold that day, particularly the last one, and decided to wait. It would be more perfect that way and, besides, he was right: a few days to think things through never hurt anybody… In fact, she realized with a smile as all of the events of the weekend washed over her, a few days could make all the difference in the world.

* * *

**A/N:**

The next and (technically) final chapter should be up in a few hours or tomorrow. It's very short but, I think, very cute and sums things up nicely :) I hope you all enjoyed Arnold's poem, and please stick around for the forthcoming Epilogues for some more fun with this story!!!

Happy Reading!!!

AXH FOREVER!!!


	14. H,E,L,G,A

**A/N:**

Aw, man--I just had one of those 'I clicked 'save' in the document manager and the page came up saying it needed to be refreshed and didn't save any of my changes' moments. Oh well--at least it happened with this chapter and not the last one, right?

So, anyway, here it is--the ending of a fic that was supposed to be three chapters and done over the course of a summer a long time ago, and is now technically culminating with Chapter 14 three years later. And, of course, the two epilogues over the next couple of days ;) I really hope you guys like what happens here and that you've enjoyed the story overall! It was so much fun to write and I'm a little sad to see it finally be over :(

Also, as for the anime reference from Chapter 12 that I mentioned with Phoebe's awesome stunt--Sailor Moon, guys!!! In the Japanese eps when Mars does that chant before throwing the paper talismans at whatever evil is currently afoot?! Sorry, I'm a bit of an anime junkie ;)

Anyway, enjoy and please review!!!

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Chapter 14:**

**H-E-L-G-A **

**

* * *

**

The school week after that ridiculous Monday continued more or less as usual. Now that the kids 'knew' who wrote the poem, there was little more interest in it or in Brainy's crush…especially with Helga's threat of mentioning some of their own little love affairs still hanging in the air. And, as they had talked about, Arnold and Helga paid no more attention to each other than they ever had before while at P.S. 118. Helga explained the situation to Phoebe and then Lila when they each approached her, concerned by this sudden change. Likewise, Arnold did the same thing for Gerald. And, of course, Arnold didn't invite Helga to the Boarding House for the reasons he had explained, and Helga didn't invite Arnold to her own house because, needless to say, things had ended a bit awkwardly there last Sunday afternoon, and it was in everybody's best interests to avoid Big Bob Pataki for a while.

Finally, though, it was Friday…The last day, it seemed, that Helga and Arnold would have to actively stay away from each other before the new weekend officially began and blotted the situation of the poem and the two of them from the minds of the other kids as well as the Boarders. In fact, as three o'clock struck that day, Arnold found himself waiting at the bottom of the front steps of P.S. 118 to talk to Helga now that some time had finally passed for both of them to sort out their feelings.

As Gerald Johanssen exited the school he noticed his best friend sitting alone at the bottom of the steps. "Hey, Arnold!"

Arnold glanced up as he recognized his best friend's voice. "Oh, hey, Gerald."

"What's going on?" Gerald descended to the sidewalk and smiled.

Arnold half smiled and glanced away. "Nothing. Just…waiting for someone."

"Hello, Gerald. Hello, Arnold." Before Gerald could respond to his best friend's statement, Phoebe Heyerdahl suddenly walked up behind him, interrupting the two boys.

Gerald turned to her. "Hey, Phoebe! Ready to go to the park?"

"Of course, Gerald." She smiled and he smiled back.

Arnold couldn't help the slight grin that came to his face at the sight of the two of them so happy together. He was sorry to have to delay their plans for a moment, but he knew that Phoebe would be the only one who might know the answer to a question that had been bothering him for the last five or ten minutes. "Phoebe?"

She turned to him. "Yes, Arnold?"

He stood up, glancing away. "Have you seen Helga anywhere? I…wanted to talk to her."

Phoebe blinked, her smile disappearing. "Oh, I'm sorry, Arnold—I was talking to her before the bell rang but then she left rather suddenly. I guess she had somewhere to go."

He blinked. "Oh…Okay… No big deal. It wasn't an emergency or anything." He did his best to smile. "Thanks, Phoebe."

She smiled back. "Certainly, Arnold. I'll let her know you were looking for her if I see her, though." She turned back to Gerald. "Shall we?"

Gerald smiled back at her. "Sure thing, babe." He turned to his best friend and gave him a reassuring look. "See you, Arnold. And don't worry—I'm sure you'll catch up with her." He winked, and, with that, Gerald and Phoebe walked off…and Arnold's slight grin returned as he noticed Gerald hesitantly reach for Phoebe's hand just as they turned the first corner.

With a sigh Arnold stood up and headed toward the buses. '_I guess I'll just go back to the Boarding House by myself, then…for today, at least_.'

* * *

Arnold arrived home at his usual time and spent the next few hours completing his chores, working on some homework, eating dinner and trying to think about some things… Of course, during all of this he had kept glancing at the hallway phone, but something was keeping him from dialing the number he wanted to call… Somehow, it just seemed like he should talk to her in person… Besides, he wasn't entirely sure what he should say considering how he had left things with her on Monday…

Thus, the afternoon turned into the evening, and while Arnold was in the process of working on his math assignment in the den he was interrupted by the sudden entrance of his grandfather. Grandpa stopped upon seeing that the couch was currently occupied by his grandson. "Well, Arnold—doing 'homework' _alone,_ this weekend, I see." He smiled.

The word 'homework' had been said with just a touch of sarcasm. In fact, Arnold had paused in doing the current problem that he was on about ten minutes ago, and had been staring up at the ceiling ever since, lost in his thoughts. At the sound of his grandfather's voice, though, he blinked and turned to him. "Oh, hey, Grandpa." He looked down at his books and tried to put his pencil to the paper in front of him and complete what he had been in the middle of, though the effort was to little avail. "Uh…yeah… I didn't have anything else to do so I thought I'd get a head start."

Grandpa entered the room fully and took a seat on the recliner, still smiling. "So, no more help from Helga?"

Arnold glanced away. "Not…not today."

"Hmm…" Grandpa could sense that Arnold was holding something back. "You know, Shortman," he continued, "you never _did_ tell me how things worked out between you two after last weekend."

Arnold sighed. "We just talked and decided to both take a break for a few days to think about some things."

"I see..." Grandpa rubbed his chin. "And no more crazy mishaps or spontaneous kisses along the way?" he asked jokingly.

Arnold smiled. "Not _many_…"

"Heh, heh, heh," Grandpa had to laugh at that response. "Well, I'll leave you to your work, then, Shortman. But you should take it easy—it's only _Friday_! Why don't you call up one of your little friends and do something? I'm sure Helga wouldn't mind an excuse to come over." He winked.

Arnold tried not to laugh. He looked down at his textbook and suddenly closed it firmly. He turned back to his grandfather. "Maybe you're right, Grandpa…" He placed his things inside of his backpack and stood up. "I'll think about it."

Grandpa laughed again. "Just do me a favor—when Helga gets here keep the smooching to a _minimum_ until you finally figure out that you love the girl. Heh, heh, heh!!!"

Smiling, Arnold just shook his head and headed in the direction of the Boarding House stairs.

* * *

Finally in his attic abode, Arnold sighed and threw himself onto the end of his bed. He hadn't managed to find the time to come up here yet since he'd gotten home from school and, to his surprise, he felt himself shiver slightly. '_I wonder why it's so cold in here? Maybe the pilot light's out again…or Grandpa didn't get all of the broken panes fixed yet from Curly._' He looked up at his ceiling but it was too hard to tell, considering the hour and, thus, the darkness, if any of the glass was indeed still broken from the animal rampage that had gone across it last Sunday. _'I wonder if that means the Fire Escape's still broken too…' _It was a long story but, suffice it to say, in one of their more idle hours during the week, the Borders had done a little investigating and finally figured out how Helga had gotten up to the roof without using the door last weekend. Unfortunately, they'd all been in a group at the time and had attempted to climb it simultaneously to confirm their theory. Being used to the weight of one ten year old girl and not four adults ranging in ages from thirty to fifty, though, the whole thing had kind of collapsed under them (serving them right, but leaving yet another thing for Grandpa to fix along with Arnold's ceiling.)

Arnold yawned and tossed his backpack on the floor. In need of some light to determine the cause of the thick cold in the room, he proceeded to grope along the surface of his blankets for his room remote. His grandfather's recent words, meanwhile, brought his mind back to other matters. '_She was probably just busy with something today…I guess I could call her now, but,_' he yawned once more, '_maybe I'll try tomorrow—I think I'd just like to go to bed now…and maybe think some more about what I should say to her_.' Still feeling along the surface of his blankets, Arnold couldn't help but grin to himself as he briefly recalled that, a week ago (give or take a few hours), he had been in this same room, holding Helga's crumpled up poem in his hand and debating whether he should read it or not—one of the choices that had started this whole mess. He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that his decision had somehow worked out alright.

_Still_ in need of some light to see exactly why his room was so chilly, Arnold reached near the head of his bed now, hoping his remote might be _there. 'I know I threw it over here before I left this morning.._.' He was in luck--upon reaching his pillow, his fingers just brushed the plastic edge of the long, rectangular item he was seeking. He was about to grab for it when he realized that, curiously, some of his fingers had also brushed against something firm and cool. His eyes widened in surprise. He reached for his remote and turned on the ceiling lights in his room.

His eyes rested on a small pink book…a very familiar pink book…and, suddenly, Arnold realized yet another truth about Helga G. Pataki and couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face.

The lights being on, a small motion above the bed caught his attention. He noticed that something was hanging out of his currently open (which explained the cold air blowing about his room, he realized) skylight window pane that lead out to his roof and (under normal circumstances) the fire escape. Putting aside the book for a moment, he climbed up to investigate, and found a rope hanging down to the street. He tried not to laugh as he pulled the rope in and closed the pane behind him.

He sat down on his bed and gently picked up the book. On the side that had been resting on the bed he felt something like paper. He flipped it over. There was a note attached to this back cover, written on pale pink paper in classic purple ink.

He read it silently to himself.

_Dear Football Head:_

_I'm guessing you've already seen the skylight pane and the rope, so you know how I got in here to put this on your bed. Of course, this is YOU we're talking about so you might seriously need me to tell you all about how I got in (like I am right now) in order to figure it out. I was just going to use the fire escape, like usual, (especially since I SWEAR I am never going into any air vents EVER again after that thing with the rats—YUCK) but the whole thing was broken. Seriously—it's impressively totaled. What the heck's up with that? Did a herd of elephants decide to start stalking you too, or did Curly just bring the animals up to your roof the hard way for round two? Sheesh, if you hadn't practically thrown yourself on top of me to get me to stay in your room last weekend, I might start thinking you're trying to get rid of me, Football Head._

_Luckily, though, I brought some rope with me (told you it's good to be prepared—sometimes something like that can really come in handy even if it didn't help us out much at the school), so I just used that to climb up to the roof so I could get in. And, yes, there IS a story involving your house about how I learned to do that, but I don't think you'd believe me even if I told you and I think I'm already giving you a lot with the poetry book, so I'm just going to leave it at that. The __really__ fun part about trying to get into your room this time, though, was trying to pick the lock on skylight pane using nothing but what I could find in the alley and my own skills—I guess I can't count on you randomly leaving it open __all__ the time, especially when you're probably not even home from school yet since I kind of rushed over here to do this before there was any chance I could get caught. Anyway, I'd yell at you for making this whole thing about as complicated as it could have possibly been, but, when it comes to you, Arnoldo, I've learned to expect nothing less._

_You know, I can't believe that I tutored you in poetry for THREE Days, AND that you figured out that those poems Simmons reads in class are mine, but you couldn't piece together that the book of Arnold love poems in your room was by me. Like I'd really just throw away everything I write! But, then again, I still don't understand how you didn't figure out it was mine a few days after you found it. For crying out loud, Arnold, the last poem was a five-letter acronym of my name and you'd already gotten through the first three letters before I tore it out and threw it at you as a spitball! Seriously, Football Head, I know you're not that good at analyzing poetry but there's limit! I mean, everything was spelled out right in front of you--LITERALLY!_

_Anyway, even though this stupid pink book is technically mine, I guess I technically kind of swiped it from your room on Sunday and, well...all things considered…I think you deserve it back. And before you get all guilty about keeping it and try to bring it back to me or something, just know that I've already copied down all the poems inside somewhere else and I've got other a few other books of them besides. I'd rather not get into details, as usual, but let's just say you having this one didn't take me out of the poetry writing business __before__ and it certainly isn't going to __now__._

_Thanks for your poem, by the way. I know I told you on Monday to never go on assumption, but I'm going to take a shot in the dark here and guess that you might have overheard some of that stuff I was gushing to Phoebe about at Slausen's. Eavesdropping, Arnold? Really? I really am just completely corrupting you, aren't I? Next thing I know, you'll be disturbing the peace and defacing public property and robbing banks! And we can't BOTH be the 'rough-around-the-edges' one in this weird relationship we've got, which means that I'm going to have to start 'doing the right thing' and giving epic 'be yourself' speeches to balance it all out. I hope that's not your plan, Football Head, because if you remember correctly from that one time I tried to give everyone advice in your place, I am VERY BAD at it. Seriously, I never have been good at looking out for anyone besides 'number one'...well, except for YOU, of course, but that involves more embarrassing stories that I'm not getting into right now._

_Anyway, what was I talking about before I got started on this rant about you and me and morality? Oh yeah. Your poem. Well, as for my professional opinion,__ it wasn't bad at all, Football Head! There was a solid rhyme scheme, nice imagery, good subject matter flow, you definitely expressed an opinion (a very VAGUE opinion, but an opinion, nonetheless), and it reflected something unique about who you are that might not be obvious at the first glance (maybe a little TOO well considering everything we went through on Monday, but, still, good job). Definitely 'A' material!_

_As for my personal opinion, your poem __was…well, let's just say that I thought 'sweet Helga' would never shut up about it...out loud OR on paper. Of course, considering the author and the subject matter, she--er, I'm a little biased._

_Sincerely,_

_'Anonymous'_

_(Just to keep my identity safe in case someone accidently finds this…oh, I don't know…__crumpled in a ball on the floor, and decides to read it and torture me with the consequences for a few days.)_

_Just kidding, Football Head._

_Love,_

_H__ is for the head I'd like to punt,_

_E__ is for every time I see the little runt,_

_L__ is for the longing for our firstest kiss,_

_G__ is for how good that longing is, and_

_A__ is for Arnold, of course._

_(In case you're sitting there scratching your head—and, again, this is YOU we're talking about so, despite everything that's happened, there's always a chance—that spells out 'HELGA,' Arnold. Duh!)_

Arnold, smiling (actually almost chuckling), placed the note aside on his pillow and carefully picked up the familiar pink book, turning it in his hands and really looking at it for the first time in a long time. He placed it aside and picked up Helga's rope from his bed. He walked across his room and put it on his desk, lingering to look at it for a moment or two. '_It would've been fun if I __had__ caught her, though… but she probably snuck in and out so quickly…_'

He walked back to his bed, still smiling...and now looking forward to a night of rereading some old poetry with a new perspective.

Arnold sat back on his bed and held the book, still just feeling the cover in his hands and unbelieving that he hadn't thought about this object _once_ the whole time he had been with Helga…or that she had freely given it back to him. Smiling to himself, he couldn't help but be grateful that he had, indeed, hesitated in trading Helga his poem for one of her old ones on Monday...a whole book of them was definitely a better deal and definitely worth a few extra days of waiting. He glanced once more at the skylight pane leading to the outside world. '_Well, I guess that explains how she's gotten into the Boarding House before to use the vents…_' He laughed silently to himself and glanced around his room. '_Still, she could have probably hidden in a lot of other places in here too if she really needed to or wanted to_: b_ehind the couch…in the closet…'_ He turned back to the book. '_She could even be here right now for all I kno_—' His eyes went wide as this new thought occurred to him. After all, the skylight pane being open and the book being here and even the rope hanging out only proved that Helga had come _into_ his room: they didn't prove that she had _left_.

He couldn't help but chuckle at this idea which he realized, once again, probably should have been making him a lot more uncomfortable than it was.

With a contented sigh, Arnold put aside the pink book once more. He walked over to his desk and grabbed the rope. He then climbed up to the skylight pane in question and reopened it slightly, securing the rope so that anyone could easily get out…or in (again).

He climbed back down to his bed and sat down once more. He opened up the pink book to the first page.

Arnold glanced around his room briefly before beginning, and cleared his throat. "Thank you, Helga!" he called into the seemingly quiet space around him.

He heard no response but was unsurprised. He hadn't really expected one regardless of whether he was right or not.

And, so, Arnold became absorbed in the beautiful bit of pink before him. And as he ended not just the best _weekend_, but the best _week,_ of his life in this perfect way, he couldn't help but feel himself fall just a little more in love with the girl he'd been falling for this whole time.

* * *

**A/N:**

Thank you all again so much for your support and reviews :) Writing this story has been one of the most fun experiences of my life.

So, now we move on to the epilogues...Hey, it's not like things are just going to go completely back to normal now that this sadistic weekend I've put Arnold and Helga through is over, right? Confrontations need to be had, more crazy schemes need to go down, and I don't know about you but I think it's about time someone flirted with someone IN PERSON!!! I hope you guys like them when they're finally up!!!

Happy Reading!!!

AXH FOREVER!!!

~Azure129 aka Jenna


	15. Epilogue1:The Slumber Party from Heaven?

**A/N:**

This was fun to write and that's all I'm going to say. Also, sorry this is getting up a bit late, but it just kept needing a little more work here and there until my crazy perfectionism said it was finally okay to post. And, really, I don't know why I'm calling it an epilogue because it's basically another chapter but it really does kind of go into the after effects of everything as opposed to the major plot of the story which kind of got wrapped up last time, so... Okay, I need to just shut up and let you all read, don't I? Enjoy ;)

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Epilogue 1:**

**The Slumber Party from…Heaven?**

* * *

The cool nighttime silence of the city streets was interrupted by the sound of a youthful fist briefly knocking at the wooden door of a large brownstone. The knocker waited patiently for a few seconds at the top of the familiar stoop on which he was standing.

Suddenly, the door opened, and he was greeted by the smiling face of a twenty-one year old blonde.

"Oh, hello, _Arnold_!" She was biting her bottom lip and seemed to be trying to hold back some laughter. She managed to get herself under control enough, though, to add to her initial salutation, "What in the world are _you_ doing here?" The laughter continued to underlie her voice.

Arnold smiled up Olga Pataki. "Hi, Olga. I'm sorry to bother you, but my Grandpa said I got a message from Lila a little while ago asking me if I could bring her one of our textbooks to borrow." Arnold held up the large book in his left hand slightly before continuing. "Anyway, I went to her house just now, but her Dad said she was over _here_…"

Olga grinned. "Oh, of course, Arnold. She's right inside." Olga opened the door and gestured for Arnold to enter. "We were just finishing setting everything up for our slumber party this evening. You're welcome to have some punch and snacks while I get her."

Arnold stepped into the foyer and Olga shut the door behind them. As he walked farther inside, he noticed several trays of fresh brownies and cookies and some bowls of chips and popcorn set up in random areas and leading into the kitchen. He turned to his host. "Thanks, Olga. Are you sure I'm not bothering you guys?"

Olga just smiled even more. "Of course not, Arnold. Now, I'll just…" There it was again—that undercurrent of giggling that Olga seemed to be trying to hold back. Arnold couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her strange behavior. Olga cleared her throat and continued. "I'll go upstairs and get _Lila_. You just have a seat on the couch…" she gestured inside of the living room, "and I'll right back!" With that, Olga pranced up the stairs of the Pataki household, leaving Arnold alone.

Arnold, book still in hand, sighed to himself and entered the quiet living room. He glanced around—indeed, everything seemed absolutely perfectly set up for a typical girls slumber party down to the four multi-colored sleeping bags laid at different angles on the floor. He raised an eyebrow at the number and then recalled that, on Monday, Helga had asked Phoebe to come over along with Lila tonight. Arnold did his best to avoid stepping on the sleeping bags as he made his way around to the couch and sat down, placing his book on the coffee table. He couldn't help but smile as he recalled some of the more humorous things Helga had threatened to do last weekend to her sister and Lila during this event, and he wondered if she still intended to go through with any of them.

As the seconds passed, Arnold found himself sitting with his eyes closed and recalling with a smile how crazy things had been the last time he was here. He knew, with a mental sigh, that he probably should have gone upstairs with Olga and said hello to Helga. But…well…ever since last night, when he'd read Helga's poems to himself in his bed, he had just felt so content and so happy inside that he wanted to hold on to that perfect feeling about their relationship for just a little while longer. He knew that, soon enough (it was already Saturday night, and Monday was only a day away, after all), he was going to have to see her and talk to her about a lot of things he'd been thinking about over the last twenty four hours…and he knew and that things probably _would_ change quite a bit between them, just like Gerald had predicted on Monday at Slausen's. But, for now, at least, there was just this perfect, simple balance inside of him, and he wanted to enjoy it just a little while longer…

"Sheesh, Olga—_first_ you practically trap me upstairs so that we can all 'bond,' _then_ you randomly shove me out the door and tell me to get a book you left downstairs in the living room! Make up your MIND, already!" A frustrated sigh. "You are seriously lucky that I'm still even going _through_ with this ridiculous slumber party thi—"

"HELGA!?" As she had come down the stairs delivering her rant, Arnold had initially remained in his former position. But, as his mind had suddenly processed her approaching presence, his eyes had flown wide open. He was now on his knees and looking over the back of the couch with a very surprised expression on his face as she entered the room.

Helga stopped dead at the sound of him saying her name, and nearly tripped over one of the sleeping bags. "ARNOLD?!"

The two kids just remained staring at each other, totally shocked at their unexpected presences in the room.

Their meeting was interrupted as Olga, Lila, and Phoebe suddenly came down the stairs and stood in the doorway to the living room, all smiling.

"Oh, look, baby sister," Olga began in a very over-acted tone, "Arnold's here! Isn't that a wonderful coincidence, girls?" She gave Lila a very slight elbow nudge

"Oh, yes," Lila concurred, in an equally transparent voice. "I'm oh too sure that this is a very fortunate turn of events. Right, Phoebe?" Lila, in turn, gave Phoebe a very slight elbow nudge.

"Indeed." Phoebe sighed, glancing away with a small smile on her face.

Helga whipped around and looked at all three of them with disbelief. "_WHAT_ is going _ON_ here?!" she asked in an almost panicked tone that demanded an answer.

Olga and Lila just looked at each other and burst into giggles. Even Phoebe couldn't help smirking a little, though she politely tried to cover her mouth with her hand.

Olga managed to recompose herself. She approached her younger sibling. "Oh, Helga…ever since last weekend, I've just been thinking about all the trouble I caused with you and Arnold. And then I was talking to Lila, and she mentioned how you two haven't been able to spend a lot of time together ever since what happened. And Phoebe agreed. So…we figured that instead of starting the sleepover this early…" she paused to build up some dramatic tension, a huge smile on her face, "we'd let you and Arnold have an official little date, first!" She clapped her hands together. "Isn't that wonderful?"

Helga felt like her entire nervous system had just shut down. She just looked from her beaming sister to a giggling Lila and then to her best friend who was obviously avoiding eye contact. "Phoebe," she started, her eyes narrowing slightly and her voice thick with disbelief and a nice amount of anger, "_you're_ in on this _too_?"

Phoebe just shrugged, still looking away. "Well…you know, 'in on this_'_ is a rather strong way to put it, Helga…I mean, I was _okay_ with it after it was explained to me, but I'm still participating under a bit of protest…I know that you don't like anyone interfering with you and 'ice cr—Arnold." She tried to smile innocently.

Helga growled in frustration. "Okay, _that's_ it!" She glared at Olga and Lila. "You two have had your fun! Now, I'm going to go back upstairs and change into my pajamas, and MAYBE if Arnold is gone when I come back down here, then I'll CONSIDER not COMPLETELY bailing on this stupid party that I got roped into!" It wasn't, of course, that Helga wasn't happy to see Arnold (when _wasn't_ she, after all), but it had been less than twenty four hours since she'd snuck into his room and left a _very personal_ item with a _very personal_ note attached to it on his bed. It just seemed to her that a couple of days apart were necessary to soften the embarrassment inherent in her action. Suddenly coming upon him in her living room without any time to mentally prepare for what she might say to him, though, was a little jarring, to say the least.

Helga noticed, much to her suspicion, that her little outburst of fury did not put the look of sadness and disappointment that she had intended it to on Lila and Olga's faces. Instead, they both looked at each other with mischievous smiles, and then glanced at Phoebe who just sighed but couldn't help a strange smile coming to _her_ face as well.

Suddenly, the three of them bolted up the stairs.

Helga blinked in utter shock. It took her a second or two to realize, with a sick lurch in her stomach, what they must be doing.

Instantly, she raced after them. "Hey!" she called out, following after them up the stairs. "Oh no, you don't—you three are NOT leaving me alone down there!!!"

However, the three girls had already made it to Olga's room, and, as Helga reached the top step, they slammed and locked the door firmly behind them!

Helga raced forward to the door and pulled furiously at the handle. From inside the room, she suddenly heard Olga's muffled but triumphant sounding voice speak up. "Oh, Helga, don't be such a silly! The three of us will just start the party early up here, and then come back down in a couple of hours after your date is over. There should be plenty of snacks for you and Arnold, and there's a _movie_ in the VCR..." Helga thought she heard something strange in the way Olga had mentioned this last detail, though her fury was so great at the moment that she didn't take the time to try and analyze it. Olga continued in her former sunny tone. "And don't worry about Mummy and Daddy—I sent them out with tickets to a show and dinner reservations, so they shouldn't be back until well after everything's over tonight. You've got the whole downstairs to yourselves!"

"OLGA," Helga yelled, pulling at the handle even harder, "I SWEAR I am going to _kill_ you if you do not open this door RIGHT _NOW_!"

Suddenly, she heard Lila laugh. "Oh, Helga, just try and have some fun! Besides, I'm ever so certain you wouldn't _really_ mind spending some more time alone with Arnold…"

"LILA!" Helga yelled, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. "What did I tell you last weekend about saying stuff like that in front of _Olga_!? Crimeny, I said it was okay if you accidentally 'slipped up' once in a while—not if you started gossiping to my big sister and setting me up on blind dates!!!" Helga blinked, and, recalling that Olga was indeed hearing all of this, tried to backpedal for a second. "I mean…not that there's anything to 'slip up' or 'gossip' about because Arnold and I are just friends, and I hate him…but…uh…uh..." She finally just sighed and dragged a hand down her face, accepting how utterly pointless it must be by now to try and deny anything to Olga, especially considering the events of the past week coupled with how flustered she was acting right now. Helga closed her eyes and rubbed one of her temples. "Oh, for Pete's sake, I am never letting you two spend time alone together ever again," she grumbled at the still closed door.

She took a breath and gave another pull at the handle, though this effort was a bit weaker as her fury was slowly turning into desperation. "Phoebe, _come on_—I _know_ you're better than these two sadistic matchmakers!" Her voice was starting to sound less and less threatening as she turned to her last resource in the room. "Seriously, I don't know what they said to you, but, just open the door and _don't_ put me through this! There are serious _extenuating circumstances_ that I haven't filled you in on, yet!!!" she added, recalling, once more, yesterday's adventure with the pink book.

"Oh, Helga…" She heard a small sigh come from the other side of the door. Then Phoebe's quiet but encouraging voice spoke to her. "If you're waiting for there to be no more 'extenuating circumstances' between you and Arnold, then you'll _never_ talk to him. Just do your best and...try to relax." Helga momentarily paused at this excellent point Phoebe had just made about the scarcity of non-awkward moments in her relationship with Arnold. However, she then stubbornly shook her head to clear it of Phoebe's excellent logic, the scowl returning to her face. "I know, _I know_, okay?! Yes, I have to talk to Arnold at some point, Phoebe, but, for Pete's sake, not NOW!!! This—this is _cruel and unusual_!" Helga heard Phoebe's patient (yet also slightly amused) sigh come from the other side of the door again, but it remained closed.

'_Okay_,' Helga thought to herself, gripping the door handle very firmly again, '_I was strong enough to take out half a 'wet floor' sign last week, so I should be able to snap the cheap lock on Olga's door handle if I try hard enough_, _right_?' She braced herself and then proceeded to give said handle one quick yank, and then a second, and then a very hard third...

"OW!" Helga yelled, suddenly finding herself fallen on her back upon the floor. She sat up, eyeing the handle, which hadn't budged despite her best efforts. '_Sheesh—it figures Bob pinches pennies everywhere else in this house, but the locks on the doors? Oh no, those need to be __freaking military surplus grade__!_'

Helga took a deep breath, set a determined look upon her face once more, and approached the door. She spit into her hands, rubbed them together, wrapped them around the handle and was about to try ripping it off again (hey, these were desperate times, after all!) when, suddenly, she heard Phoebe speak up in response to her initial efforts at opening the door in this manner. "Believe me, Helga, I personally inspected the lock myself and, considering the year, the brand and the craftsmanship, I don't believe that even _I_ could get this one off. At least, not alone and not without a considerable amount of time to spend doing so." Helga blinked at Phoebe's reference to the story she'd told her about getting the door of the janitor's closet open last weekend: if even Phoebe seriously couldn't budge this handle with all of her skills, then, Helga knew, she and her raw strength were probably (and unfortunately) out of luck. As Helga was finishing taking in this information, Phoebe continued. "You know, Helga, in a way you should be happy that all your evening will entail is a simple film—Olga and Lila were originally going to start the makeovers _before_ Arnold came, and then leave you downstairs with makeup, a manicure and one of Olga's old dresses. I managed to talk them down to this, though." At this revelation, Helga's eyes went wide and she felt the color drain from her face at the possibilities that her best friend had just mentioned. '_Okay...uh...maybe a movie's not such a bad thing,_' she couldn't help but briefly think to herself.

Not hearing anything further in the way of arguments from Helga, Phoebe resumed speaking once more in a pleasant and encouraging voice. "Just go and watch the movie with Arnold, and we'll return downstairs when you're finished. There will be no more interference than that between the two of you from us this evening. We promise."

Phoebe's final words snuffing out any lingering hope that her best friend would come to her rescue, Helga finally just sighed in complete defeat. She took a brief glance around the empty hallway. '_Fine, I guess I'll have to talk to Arnold even though this whole thing has 'epically awkward disaster' written all over it. But_, _I at least need to lay down for a second and think about what the heck I'm going to say to him…' _The desperate desire to stall before going back downstairs was also at the back of Helga's mind as she made this decision. She walked across the hall and went to open the door of her own room. However, Helga had to raise an eyebrow in surprise as she realized that it was locked as well. '_What the…?_' Her eyes went wide. "Oh, Crimeny, don't tell me…" She ran to the door of her parents' room and tried to open it next. She growled—it wouldn't budge either. "Oh come on—they locked _all_ the doors?!" She stomped back over to Olga's room. "Phoebe, this has YOU written all over it—Lila and Olga could come up with locking the door to _Olga's_ room so that I couldn't hide in there, but there's no way they're smart enough to think to lock the doors to the _other_ rooms up here too!"

She heard a slight laugh come from her best friend. "Well, we _did_ leave the bathroom door open…and of course, _t__he closet_," Phoebe added with just a touch of sarcasm.

Helga blinked at the response. She stood in shock for a second, but then finally just dragged her hand down her face and sighed once more. "I am going to THROTTLE the three of you when you come back downstairs," she announced in a more level though, obviously, still very peeved voice. "And don't think that if this goes well that I'm going to let you off the hook or anything—it'll just help me decide whether the deaths should be _quick_ or _slow_!"

She was met with a second of silence followed by the three girls bursting into laughter once more from behind Olga's door. Helga growled loudly and then, grudgingly, stomped her way downstairs.

* * *

Helga reached the bottom step and headed directly into the living room. "Well, Football Head, looks like we're stuck here thanks to the three musketeers up there." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Sheesh, I just _cannot_ believe that they—" She had just walked around to the front of the couch. The pause in her sentence was the result of the fact that, to Helga's surprise, she saw no one sitting there: just a textbook on the coffee table and nothing more.

She glanced around but didn't see Arnold anywhere. She sighed to herself. "Crimeny, after _that_ little performance he probably ran out of here completely freaked out. I mean, first he finds out all that stuff about me with the poems and the stalking, _then_ he gets dragged by me on that wacky adventure through the school, and _now_ he has to deal even more with my insane family, and one of OLGA'S schemes, of all things…" She sat down on the couch. "And to top it all off, there's the whole thing with the poetry book that I did yesterday!" She leaned back, closing her eyes and resting her head in one of her hands. "CRIMENY! I cannot believe I actually _did_ something that reckless! I mean_, so what_ if he did and said all that stuff on my front steps on Monday, and _so what_ if he wrote a random poem about me—I knew I was reading way too much into all of that! He was probably just...just—"

"Just, caught up in the heat of the moment?"

"AH!" Helga's eyes flew open and she practically jumped off of the couch. She looked wide-eyed at Arnold who had suddenly appeared at her side, an eyebrow raised and a slight grin on his face. He was holding two Yahoo sodas in his hands.

"Arnold!?" She took several quick, deep breaths and then shifted away to make room for him on the couch (and to put at least a slight bit of distance between them—after all, he _had_ kind of surprised her and she needed a second to calm down and fully take in the fact that he indeed seemed to be sticking around tonight). "Sheesh, Football Head, don't SCARE me like that! I'd thought you'd gone HOME or something."

Arnold laughed and sat down. "Sorry, Helga. I was just getting us a couple of sodas. Here." He held one out to her.

Tentatively, Helga reached forward and grabbed the cool bottle. Arnold smiled at her and opened his own drink, taking a gulp and then placing it on the table. Helga opened her bottle, took a very small sip, and then placed it on the table as well, still watching him warily.

There was another second of awkward silence, and then Helga swallowed hard and glanced away from him. "So…uh…how much of all that did you hear, exactly?"

Arnold shrugged. "Well, I caught bits and pieces of it from the kitchen, but I didn't come in until around the time you started talking about the pink book."

"Ah," Helga replied in a tone that said 'I see,' "So, I guess we're just plunging right in to _that _awkward topic, then, aren't we?"

Arnold laughed. "Actually, I thought it was really…clever. Thank you, Helga. I…I really enjoyed reading it last night."

Her eyes went a little wide and she turned to him. "You read the whole thing again _last night_?"

Arnold smiled, turning away slightly. "Well, yeah. You didn't think I was just going to put it back on my shelf and forget about it again, did you?"

Helga glanced away, unsure of how to respond. "I-I guess not…but," she looked at him incredulously again, "the _whole_ thing? The first time you got your hands on it, it took you two or three _days_ to hit the last page."

Arnold shrugged again and laughed. "I guess I'm just a fan of your work…although, considering the author and the subject matter, I _am_ a little biased." He turned and winked at her.

Helga blushed furiously as she mentally recalled the closing words of her letter to Arnold in reference to _his_ poem for _her_.

"I think Mr. Simmons was right," he continued, "about how your poetry's changed since you confessed…" He glanced away again.

Helga just dragged a hand down her face and closed her eyes, not saying _anything_.

Arnold couldn't help but chuckle at her overly embarrassed reaction. He continued. "I mean, I like the old ones _and_ the new poem you wrote, but the old ones sound almost like they're written about dreams and hopes, and the one about your confession sounded like you're thinking about something more than that…like you're curious about what's next." He couldn't help but blush slightly as he added this last comment.

Helga just sighed. "Okay, Arnold, I admit it—I was kind of asking for this with the whole 'rope/open window/secret poetry book' thing, but can you please stop trying to make me blush, now? I know you think it's just hysterical watching me try and not get all goofy around you, and, believe me, if the shoe was on the other foot, I'd probably be doing _far_ worse to you..." She swallowed hard. "But, my nerves are already shot enough from suddenly walking into this whole 'date' thing that Olga and the rest of them set up, and this _isn't_ helping, so can we take five, or something?"

Inside, Arnold couldn't help but feel a quick twist in his stomach at the comment she had just made about 'if the shoe was on the other foot.' Outside, he laughed and tried not to betray the slightly nervous feeling slowly taking him over. "Okay, okay…sorry." He smiled at her playfully with his half lidded gaze and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just trying to see if I could make the 'sweet Helga' come back out now that we don't need the 'sneaky' one anymore."

"Arnold!" Helga looked at him, her eyes wide and her lips firmly set, a bright blush tinging her cheeks.

He laughed once again. "Sorry, Helga." He managed to get himself under control. "I still don't understand why you always get so embarrassed whenever we talk about things between us, though. I mean," he glanced away again for a moment, the smile still on his face, "I don't think _I'd_ get embarrassed if you brought up _my_ poem…or that I kissed your hand when I gave it to you."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, trying not to blush even more. "No, Football Head, once again, those are more things that would embarrass _me_ since I'M the one in love. Good job hitting the trifecta, though—I'll give you that."

"Oh…yeah…"

Arnold faked a small laugh along with this strangely said remark, still not looking Helga in the eye, and the effort wasn't lost on her. She glanced at her beloved with a raised eyebrow. '_What the heck's up with him?'_

It took Arnold a second, but he cleared his throat and finally looked back at her again, smiling sincerely. "Sorry, Helga—no more embarrassing things. I promise."

She let out a sigh and gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Just so I know, though," he began innocently enough, but suddenly the half lidded gaze was back and he leaned in a bit, "does that include the kiss in the closet and the one I gave you on your cheek, too?"

Helga rolled her eyes and the scowl returned in full force. She stood up. "_That's it_—I'm getting us some snacks and turning on this stupid movie so that we can finally watch it, and so that Olga will _finally_ let me out of this nightmare of a pre-party of hers! Besides, if you've got something to look at and something to do with your mouth, then maybe it'll actually shut you up for once!" She stomped out the room in a show of fury.

Arnold watched her go and tried to control his laughter at the sight. If there was one thing he didn't need right now it was something to look at—the rainbow of emotions he could get out of Helga Pataki was more than enough to entertain him visually.

Helga walked back into the room about a minute later with a bowl of popcorn, and violently tossed it on the coffee table in front of them. Then she plopped herself on the couch again, this time with a few video tape boxes in her hands, and began to glance through them.

There was silence for a second or two, during which it was obvious that Helga was thinking about something more than really examining the videos before her. Then, she asked, with just a touch less anger in her voice than she'd had before leaving the room, "So…how did my perfect sister, little miss sunshine, and Phoebe the traitor rope _you_ into this, anyway?"

Arnold shrugged, a half smile on his face, and, even though he knew he was pushing it, he just couldn't help himself. "Well, you heard them, Helga—they asked me if I wanted to come by for a date with you, and so I rushed right over."

The tapes instantly dropped from her hand and she stared at him with wide eyes.

Arnold just looked back at her, feigning sincerity.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and he burst into warm laughter. "I-I'm sorry, Helga." He tried to get himself under control. "I-I just had to bring a book to Lila, and her Dad said she was over here so I just came by and—OW!" His laughter was cut short by the feeling of a throw pillow slamming hard into his head. He opened his eyes and rubbed his temple, looking to Helga.

"I hate you—You _know_ that, right?" She sat, arms crossed over her chest, giving him a look. Still, he could sense the tiniest bit of smile trying not to form on her face. '_For Pete's sake,'_ Helga thought to herself, watching him,_ 'I just hope he's aware that he is INCREDIBLY lucky that he's so adorable whenever he smiles, because I would __never__ let anyone else get away with half the stuff I'm letter him rib me about right now.' _

Arnold cleared his throat, trying to stem the last of his laughter, and placed the pillow at his side. "Sorry, Helga. I couldn't resist." He smiled at her.

She rolled her eyes again and picked up the tapes, feeling her heart flutter quickly at that beautiful grin of his, though she tried to ignore it. "Yeah, well, all the more reason to get this movie going. If that doesn't shut you up, though, then, once again, I don't know what I'm going to do aside from hurling more objects at that wide head of yours."

Helga sincerely began glancing through the tapes for a few seconds. Suddenly, she sighed and tossed them all in defeat onto the coffee table. "_Of course_—Olga _only_ rented sappy love stories and romantic comedies even though I _specifically_ asked to get something that _wouldn't_ rot my brain. And, of course, I didn't have any time to get to the video store _myself_ before it closed today…" With a sigh, she stood up and walked over to a few rows of videos on a shelf near the TV. "Oh well—let's see what we've got here…" She began to browse. "Ah! Here we go!" With a smile, she suddenly pulled out a tape box and turned around to Arnold. "The original Evil Twin movie—a classic _and_ a personal favorite." She walked over to the VCR.

Arnold raised an eyebrow. "Evil Twin? Really?"

She glanced back at him, an eyebrow raised herself. "What, too _scary_ for you, Football Head? And, besides, didn't I mention something about sneaking one of these flicks into Olga's slumber party movie line-up at your house on Sunday, anyway? Granted, I wanted the latest installment, but who can beat the original, right?" She smiled.

He almost laughed again. "No, it's just—I wasn't really thinking about it then…but, I don't think I ever knew a girl who really liked _Evil Twin_ movies. I mean, I tried to ask Lila to one once and she practically—" Arnold really hadn't been thinking as he had begun to add this information, and he stopped as he noticed Helga standing with a hand on her hip and scowling darkly at him.

"A-anyway," he cleared his throat nervously and tried to backpedal, "so, you like Evil Twin movies? I-I guess that's another thing we have in common—you know, like the Nancy Spumoni record," he added, referring back to the album they had listened to in his room on Sunday afternoon.

This comment removed the scowl from Helga's face. "Oh…yeah. I guess so…" She actually smiled for a moment, Arnold noticed, but then quickly blinked, shook her head to clear it, and turned back to the VCR. '_Easy, Helga, old girl—he's just making polite conversation. Quit looking for patterns to prove that he'd actually consider giving you a shot as more than just the strangest friend he's ever had.'_

Helga reached down and pressed the button to turn on the TV. Static appeared on the screen.

Helga raised an eyebrow. "That's weird?"

"What?" Arnold glanced at the television.

Helga scratched her head. "There's just static—no show came on or anything. It's like the cable's out…" She looked at it curiously for another moment and then turned her attention back to the VCR. "Oh well…we weren't going to watch TV, anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter."

She turned on the VCR and was about to slip the horror movie tape in when, to her surprise, another movie started playing. The background music was a lot of romantic sounding strings and piano, and the title card that came up on the screen read That Oh So Special Someone. 

With a scowl, Helga pressed eject. Nothing happened. She pressed it again. Nothing. She pressed stop. No dice. She tried to reach into the tape deck and pull out the video with her bare hand. The little plastic flap sealing it off remained shut tight.

It took a second for her to come up with what was going on: she just wasn't used to factoring Phoebe's skills into Olga and Lila's talent at driving her nuts.

Helga stormed away from the television and over to the bottom of the steps. In a voice full of the same fury she'd had upon finding Arnold randomly at her house this evening, she called up to whoever might be listening on the second story. "Hey, guys—just stumbled across your _brilliant_ plan with the video and VCR. Let me guess—Olga disconnected the cable for the night, Lila picked out the movie, and Phoebe used her technical skills to make it happen—am I close?! You know, I am GOING to fix this, and then when I get my hands on you three I am GOING to kill you, bring you back from the dead, and then KILL you AGAIN. Oh, and, Phoebe?" she called brightly, with a smile suddenly on her face. "Thanks, again, for letting me know that the closet and the bathroom are still open. You know what those two places and Olga's room all have in common? Here's a hint—they all have AIR VENTS!!!" And with that she stomped back over to Arnold and the TV.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and a distinctly amused smile on his face. "What was that about?"

Helga rolled her eyes, still scowling, and gestured to the television and the romantic movie currently starting. "Well, it seems _some_ people decided to take out the cable and jam the VCR with some stupid love story in a pathetic attempt at being funny!" She rubbed one of her temples and sighed to herself, mumbling as she walked out of the room yet again, "I've seriously got to start looking for a new sidekick…and sister…and former mortal enemy…"

Arnold watched curiously as she left and then reentered a few seconds later with a screwdriver in hand.

"What's that for?" he asked, pointing to the metal and plastic item she was currently gripping in her right fist.

Helga approached the VCR, and sighed once more. "Well, right now, it's for trying to fix this stupid thing so that I can get my fill of gratuitous violence and scary, undead monsters…If that doesn't work out, though, then I'm thinking of just gouging out my own eyes with it because that sounds better than actually watching this stupid thing until Olga pronounces us free." She pressed one more button on the TV and smiled as the movie went on mute. "Okay, at least there's _one_ thing they didn't think of." She got to work. '_I guess I could just unplug everything to solve this mess, but there's __no way__ I'm sitting down and talking to Arnold one-on-one for two hours without SOME kind of buffer between us after everything that happened._' She sighed mentally to herself and waxed nostalgic for a second. _'Sometimes I really do miss the old days when I would just insult him and he would leave me alone and then I would gush to my Arnold shrine for a few hours... Now I insult him, he get's intrigued, and I spend days trying not to have a heart attack while he randomly smiles at me and grabs my hand and demands access to my obsessive poetry…_' Helga could feel herself starting to smile dreamily at these memories, and she quickly blinked and swallowed hard, trying to get back to what she was supposed to be doing over here. '_Still…_' she couldn't help but add to herself, just a touch of the smile returning to her face, '_it __is__ nice to be __getting__ attention from Arnold instead of just __giving__ it to him…I guess this whole 'date' thing might not turn out to be the __most__ horrible fiasco imaginable…'_

As Helga had these thoughts and did her best to undo the efforts of Olga, Lila and Phoebe with the VCR, Arnold just sat on the couch, watching her and smiling. In a way, he was kind of hoping that she'd fail at fixing the device in front of her. Not that he was all that interested in the movie, but he liked just sitting and talking to Helga: especially now that he had a better handle on what was going on with his feelings about her. He just couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before—this whole time he'd only been thinking 'do I love Helga or do I like Helga?' The distinction seemed so clear for her that he'd never even considered that he might be _slowly_ falling in love with her, _slowly_ starting to care about her as more than just a friend. Something about that idea felt very right to him, though. In fact, he couldn't help but wonder if the concept of falling in love with her hadn't been developing at the back of his mind ever since the FTi building (he HAD tangoed awfully close with her during the April Fools Dance, he had realized…possibly more than was necessary to just distract her as Gerald set their prank in motion), or maybe even farther back than that… He hadn't had too much time to think about it, of course—a week wasn't very long, and a good deal of that had been spent in school and playing baseball and, of course, reading Helga's poems last night… But, still, the more it occurred to him the more right it felt. There was no more of that internal conflict where he wrestled with himself about how his feelings for Helga were different from how he'd felt about other girls whom he'd 'like-liked' but at the same time different from how he felt about girls who were his friends. Even if he wasn't in love with her like she was with him, he could still feel _something_ special for her, and he knew that it was only growing the more time they spent together…and he liked it. A lot.

"Alright, here we go…_and_—OUCH!" Helga pulled her hand away from the VCR shook it for a second.

Arnold looked at her with concern. "Are you okay, Helga?"

She sighed. "Fine, Football Head. But remind me to ask Phoebe where the heck she learned how to do this—it's _really_ thorough."

Arnold smiled and took another sip of his open soda. A second or two passed, and then he cleared his throat. "Hey, Helga?"

"Yeah, Football Head?" She was still tinkering away.

His smile grew slightly, and he felt himself swallow nervously at what he was going to say to her. "Since it might take a little while for the movie to start…would it be okay if I asked your advice about something?"

Helga couldn't help but blink at the request. Arnold asking for advice? '_Am I SURE that it's not still Sunday morning, and that I'm not just trapped in a really, really, REALLY long dream sequence_?' She just shook her head in disbelief and continued trying to fix the device before her. "Uh, sure, Arnoldo—shoot!"

Arnold sighed. "Well…remember how I said that the Boarders would probably tease us a lot if you came over to my house too soon?"

"Mmm hmm…" Helga replied, still focused on the task at hand.

"Well…I was right." He smiled sheepishly. "Except that, even without you around, they've still been taking a lot of jabs at me, and I'm not really sure what to do about it. I'm trying to ignore it but, to be honest, I wish I could get them to stop completely… And then maybe it'd be easier for us to spend some time together at my house again." A touch of playful sarcasm came to his voice as he added, "You know, _without_ you sneaking in through my ceiling."

Helga rolled her eyes and ignored the last comment. "Oh, come on, Arnoldo, what are they doing—calling you 'Football Head' or something? Sheesh, I thought after all these years of putting up with _me_ that you'd be a little tougher about a few annoying nicknames."

"Actually," Arnold began, feeling a slight blush come to his cheeks, "it's mostly about that whole… 'lousy kisser' thing…"

Helga almost dropped the screwdriver in her hand. She suddenly recalled the comment she had made to the Boarders before leaving Arnold's house for the first time on Sunday. She _didn't_ turn around. "Oh…uh…yeah…Sorry about that one, Football Head…I was angry and it just kind of slipped out." She laughed nervously. "You know _me_—you get me worked up enough and I'm bound to say _anything_."

Arnold laughed slightly to himself. "Yeah, I think I figured _that_ out on the roof of the FTi building somewhere between "Helga—you're Deep Voice?" and "We have to save the neighborhood—let's go." "

Helga felt herself blush very warmly. '_Well, I just walked __right__ into that one, didn't I_?' She took a deep breath and really tried to continue focusing on what she was doing with the screwdriver so that Arnold wouldn't notice just how nervous he was making her. _'I've got to calm down, already… Phoebe's right—I just need to relax. So, I called him a lousy kisser and now he's just having some fun with it—big deal. Honestly, with how he __could__ be reacting to half the stuff I did last weekend, I should probably consider myself unbelievably lucky that he's just making a few innocent jokes!'_

Arnold had been silent while Helga was having these thoughts, but suddenly she heard him laugh to himself once more and speak again. "You know…I think part of the reason that I kissed you in your room later that afternoon was because I wanted to prove you wrong. Pretty funny, huh?"

For a brief instant, Helga recalled that kiss—the first and only kiss Arnold had ever initiated with her—and felt her heart race. She tried to focus once more on fixing the VCR, but her palms had become a bit sweaty and she could barely keep gripping the screwdriver.

"Uh…yeah. Pretty funny." She tried to fake a laugh, and then said the first thing she could think of. "Well…uh, hey, there you go, Arnoldo! Like you said, _you_ didn't kiss _me_ until that afternoon, so just tell them that there's no way I could have known what I was talking about…" Helga paused as she realized exactly what she had just suggested. She glanced back at him. "Actually, never mind—I'm not sure if saying that would take things _better_ or _worse_…"

Arnold chuckled. "Probably worse…"

Helga laughed nervously along with him and then cleared her throat and tried her best to focus on the VCR again, though at this point it was taking everything she had to just remain standing.

"You know, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable or confused again, Helga…" Arnold began, and Helga instantly knew that she was going to regret the next thing coming out of his mouth, "and I don't really have a basis for comparison but…for what it's worth…" He hesitated.

Helga felt like her insides were going into meltdown. '_Oh great, even __Arnold's__ nervous about this one—__that's__ a good sign!'_

Arnold cleared his throat again and continued in a sincere voice. "For what it's worth…I think _you're_ a _great_ kisser."

Helga felt her jaw drop open. The screwdriver landed on the carpet with a soft plop. She was not hearing these words. He was kidding—any second, she was certain, he'd burst into laughter just like before when she'd asked him how Olga had gotten him to come over, and then just say what he'd really meant to say to her.

The only problem with this logic was that Arnold wasn't laughing. And he wasn't correcting himself.

"I think it's because…" he began to continue, and Helga jumped in the air and turned around. His voice had suddenly sounded distinctly closer to her and she saw, now that she was facing away from the television, that he had gotten up and was now positioned right between her and the coffee table, smiling. He paused in what he was saying as though trying to find the right words to continue. Finally, he smiled and went on. "I think it's because you kiss so with so much…" he blushed at the only word that came to mind, "passion."

At the sound of that word, Helga suddenly felt like if she moved even an inch that she would collapse right on the floor. Frozen on the spot, she tried to take in at least a small breath so that she could speak and maybe get herself out of this incredibly vulnerable position. "Arnold…" she managed in a very faint voice, "Quit…quit fooling around. I told you, when you talk about stuff like that and smile like that it…it makes me really nervous and tense and I can't…I can't think…" She glanced down at the screwdriver on the floor and looked back to him, trying to smile. "See…you even made me drop the screwdriver. Heh, Heh…Heh…"

Arnold blinked and picked up the small object from the floor. "Oh, sorry, Helga." He went to hand it to her but she remained unmoving. With an eyebrow raised and an almost amused smile on his face at how flustered she seemed, Arnold just placed the object softly on top of the TV. Concluding from her immobility that she wasn't planning to go back to fixing the VCR just now, Arnold cleared his throat and decided to continue. "Anyway…" he knew, with a guilty swallow, that he shouldn't be making her uncomfortable like this. Yet, all of the stress and pressure of last weekend were finally over, and he really wanted to just finish saying what was on his mind while they were still alone together, and while he still had the nerve. He swallowed hard. "…Anyway, I guess that's part of the reason why I got upset about the whole Brainy thing on Monday." He smiled and glanced down. "When I thought he'd kiss-kissed you, and that you might…like him back a little…I guess I was just jealous that someone else had had that…that whole _experience_ that you make it." He smiled warmly to himself and almost chuckled slightly at his memories of Helga G. Pataki kissing him.

Though feeling absolutely terrified and wanting nothing more than to make up an excuse to duck into the kitchen to regroup her thoughts and figure out what the heck was up with him, Helga suddenly found herself listening very intently to Arnold as he continued. It was like he was building up to something and she needed to know what it was while she was actually getting the uninterrupted chance and while he was actually being so open with her. Besides, Helga's entire body still felt like it was on the brink of meltdown, so getting her legs to move her away from him didn't seem like a likely course of action any time soon.

Arnold, taking Helga's continued silence as confusion about how vague and strange what he was saying must sound, tried to explain himself better. "I mean…it's like in the closet or on the FTi building—you say something dramatic and grab the person and pull them against you, and then you just kiss them as long and as hard as you can like it's the most important thing in the world to you." He smiled to himself once more, and a look came into his eyes like he had just realized something. "I guess that's kind of another reason why I kissed you on Sunday..." he looked up at her, "to see what it would be like to do something like that myself."

And Helga wanted to inform him that he had indeed done a brilliant, wonderful,_ incredible_ job of mimicking her style, if only it wasn't for the pesky fact that doing so would send her off into an Arnold monologue, effectively making her too humiliated to look him in the eye _ever_ _again_. Feeling like she at least needed to _attempt _to put _some_ kind of greater distance between herself and her beloved before she fully passed out from this little close-quarters exchange they were having, Helga shifted as far back as she could from Arnold. However, unfortunately…or, perhaps, fortunately…actually, DEFINITELY fortunately when she thought about it later...the movement caused her to bump into the television and (she realized, also later) the mute button. Suddenly, the romantic musical score of the movie gently sounded in the room once more.

"Ah!" Needless to say, all this talk of kissing coupled with her beloved's proximity had Helga on edge and, due to this fact, the sound of the TV suddenly coming to life behind her (despite its relatively delicate music) surprised her quite a bit. Helga's instinct was to move away from the noise. However, Arnold was currently standing within a few inches of her. As a result, she ended up suddenly lurching a bit forward and right against him, grabbing his shoulders for support. On instinct, he caught her under the arms and around the waist, just as he had done on Monday afternoon when she'd slipped on the cleaning fluid in the janitor's closet.

Helga remained frozen in this new position, her eyes wide, breathing shallowly. Arnold just stared at her, a bit surprised by her sudden closeness but not giving any indication that he was about to pull away.

They remained like that for a moment.

"I really _am_ making things 'tense' again, aren't I, Helga?" Arnold finally asked in a quiet and slightly guilty voice, recalling that word that she had used to describe things both in the air vents at school all those days ago, as well as just now when he had come up behind her.

"J-just a little bit…Football Head…" Helga managed to breathe in response, her eyes still locked onto his.

He knew he should let her go and walk away from her before he made things even more uncomfortable… But, he had to admit to himself, he didn't want to… Arnold knew, of course, that _something_ had to fix this awkward feeling he had managed (once again) to create between himself and Helga. Yet, pretending that there was nothing between them like she always seemed to want him to do in situations like these just felt…wrong: like nothing would ever get done if he kept doing that—like nothing would ever really get figured out between them. And then he recalled, with a twist in his stomach, Helga's other method of 'relieving the tension'…the one from the janitor's closet…the one that seemed to be her personal preference for herself…and the one, he'd had to admit to himself after thinking about it since then, that he…liked...or maybe even…loved…though he wasn't quite sure which one it was considering the fact that he was suddenly finding it a little difficult to think straight _himself_…and the current proximity of Helga's face and her wide, blue, waiting eyes to his own wasn't helping…

What better time than now, though, to try and figure it out?

With a nervous swallow, Arnold leaned in and gently, hesitantly pressed his lips to Helga's.

A moment passed, and then he pulled away slowly. "Any better?" he asked sincerely, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "The tension, I mean…"

"Worse." Despite the comment, something in Helga's eyes bespoke a smile as well.

He only had about half a second to wonder at this response before she suddenly pushed up from the floor using her heels and pressed her own lips against his as hard as she could. She wrapped her arms around his head and neck, righting herself completely.

However, the sudden shift of her weight as well as the force of her unexpected kiss caught Arnold off guard, and he swayed for a second before falling completely back onto the coffee table with her on top of him.

Helga, meanwhile, wasn't too aware of the details of her actions between Arnold's kiss and right now, but she suddenly realized that she had indeed pushed him back onto the coffee table, scattering their drinks and the popcorn and a bunch of other stuff everywhere. She knew she should stop—this was a little extreme, even for _her_. But, still, to feel all of that pent up whatever-it-was suddenly released…everything that had accumulated from him getting close to her and saying all those things to her about her kisses and catching her in his arms, and then gently, perfectly, wonderfully kissing her like that—not in the heat of the moment or because of some stupid argument, but because he _wanted_ to… It was all too much, and she needed some kind of outlet for all of the love brimming inside of her before she just exploded with it! It wasn't helping, either, that Arnold wasn't exactly resisting her efforts…

'_Oh, Arnold, oh, my beloved, oh, how wonderful it is to be near you once more—feeling your embrace and the soft, perfect sensation of your mouth against mine! Oh, my darling, oh, my dearest, oh, my—"_

"OW!"

"OW!"

Helga had known at the back of her mind that there were probably some inherent risks in her action of fully pushing Arnold backward onto an elevated surface and throwing herself on top of him…and she had been right. Indeed, the two of them had just fallen over the edge of the coffee table and were now lying squished next to each other on the carpet between the couch and the legs of said table.

Helga tried to rub her head and Arnold tried to sit up, but they were pressed right alongside each other and it was making things a little difficult, to say the least.

Helga sighed to herself and scowled. '_Great, I overshot it_.' "Okay, hold on…" She hated to do it after this whole 'awkward kissing moment' between them, but there was no other way out of their current position: she rolled on top him, COMPLETELY avoided eye contact with him (and, of course, resisted the urge to kiss him again), and then put her hands on the floor around his neck and managed to push herself up and out of the small space. She reached down and grabbed one of Arnold's hands, suddenly yanking him up off the floor as well.

This action, however, resulted in Arnold both holding Helga's hand _and_ suddenly finding himself standing very close to her yet again. Helga found herself staring, first, down at her hand which he wasn't letting go of, and then into his eyes which held, Helga noticed, a look that she'd only seen once before…at a school dance just under a month ago, as a matter of fact. She suddenly found herself recalling just how strangely he had behaved during that tango on April Fools Day as she realized, to her surprise, that she was currently looking into the same face she'd seen when he had dipped her and told her that she was in 'good hands.'

Helga raised an eyebrow at him. "Why are you looking at me like that, Football He—MMM!!!" She blinked in surprise as he suddenly went forward and resumed kissing her. Taken just_ a bit_ by surprise at one of her biggest personal fantasies suddenly coming true, Helga felt herself fall back into the couch and Arnold landed half beside her and half on top of her, his kiss still continuing (with an intensity that was impressively comparable, Helga noted to herself at the back of her mind, to her own enthusiasm just a moment ago on the table.)

Suddenly, the sound of faint footsteps on the stairs reached their ears…

Arnold and Helga opened their eyes.

* * *

Phoebe Heyerdahl came down the stairs of the Pataki household and hesitantly entered the living room. "Helga…" she began timidly, "I was talking to Olga and Lila, and we're sorry about the trick with the movie. We've all agreed that it might have been a bit much… I'd be happy to fix the VCR for you if you're still unable to watch…" an 'interesting' sight on the other side of the couch suddenly came into her field of vision, "what you would like…" she finished slowly, an eyebrow raised.

It seemed there were a couple of spilled Yahoo sodas leaking out over the edge of the coffee table, and a bowl of popcorn turned completely upside down on the floor. In addition, several videos and a textbook lay upon the carpet, all at strange angles as though sudden flung there. Phoebe also noticed that the romantic movie was indeed playing despite Helga's angry remarks about it before. She glanced at Arnold and Helga, and her eyes widened for a second: both of them were sitting on the couch as far apart from each other as possible, their eyes wide, and not looking directly at Phoebe or each other…and one of Helga's pigtails was completely undone and a strap of her jumper was slightly askew…and Arnold's sweater was pulled up just a little bit on one side and his wide head was bare.

"Arnold, what happened to your hat?" Phoebe asked without thinking.

Arnold glanced at her, then at Helga (who did NOT look at him in return), and then down at the floor by the couch. Saying nothing, he leaned forward, picked up his small blue cap from the floor, popped a dent out of the fabric and placed it on his head. He then swallowed hard and glanced away, a blush apparent on his face.

Phoebe just stood there, her mouth slightly agape, _totally_ unsure of what to say. Feeling a little awkward for interrupting whatever had been going on, she just cleared her throat, turned around, tinkered with the VCR for a few moments resulting in the romantic tape popping out, and then inserted the copy of Evil Twin that she noticed was sitting on top of the television. She pressed play and turned back around, blushing slightly. "I'm going to return to Olga's room now… Don't worry, I'll make certain that there are no more interruptions. Please enjoy the movie." And with that she quickly returned upstairs.

* * *

Arnold and Helga just sat in silence for a few minutes, not moving or looking at one another.

Finally, Helga managed to say the only thing that was really on her mind, her voice sounding a bit shaky as she spoke, to say the least. "Arnold, what…what _was_ all that…exactly?"

Arnold blinked and looked pensive for a second, like he wasn't quite sure _himself_. Finally, he cleared his throat and responded shyly. "Well…we fell off the table and…and I don't think I was done, yet. So, I just…thought we should finish, I guess."

Helga blushed. Darkly. "A-actually, I meant what was the whole 'talking about kissing me and then actually doing it' thing, in general, but…good to know. Why you kissed me back after I kissed you was probably going to be my second question, anyway."

"Oh…" Arnold blinked, realizing his mistake. "I-I'm not sure. I was thinking about it, and it seemed like it might be a good way to try and figure out some things between us… And then you slipped and your face was right in front of mine…and you felt so warm and your eyes just looked so…" Helga's eyes went wide just as Arnold blinked as he realized what he was saying. He cleared his throat trying to wrap it up. "And I just…just wanted you..._just wanted TO_!" he corrected himself firmly, his face bright red.

"Oh." Helga replied, swallowing hard. "Okay." There was a second of silence. "So…uh…what did you 'figure out,' exactly?"

Arnold seemed pensive again, and it took him a few seconds to respond. "That you were right about it being good for 'relieving tension'…and…" she heard just a touch of that shyness suddenly come back into his voice, but he seemed intent on answering her questions truthfully and she wasn't about to complain about it, "….and that I like when _I _do it to _you _just as much as when _you_ do it to _me_. Maybe even a little more, actually…" Arnold blinked again as he realized that he was, indeed, speaking all of this aloud to the girl he had just 'technically made out with' for the second time in a little over a month, though by _his_ initiation this time. He shut up.

"Oh…uh…great," was all Helga could manage, still in that almost trembling voice. Several more seconds passed, and then she finally got up enough courage to glance at him. She blinked at what she saw. "Uh, Football Head—your sweater's a little…"

Arnold looked down and blinked as he noticed what she was referring to. He straightened his outfit instantly. He looked to her, finally, as well. "And, um, Helga…your hair's a little…and the strap of your…"

Helga reached up and felt the side of her head, and then glanced down at her jumper. She straightened her clothing first and then used her hands to quickly reform her pigtail.

The sound of a few theatrical monster movie screams suddenly filling the room had the effect of temporarily distracting the two kids from the awkward moment and redirecting their gazes _away_ from each other and _back_ to the TV screen.

"So…" Helga managed to begin in a timid voice after a few seconds, still not even entertaining the idea of glancing at Arnold again (possibly _ever_), "you wanna, maybe, just watch the movie now and pretend that didn't happen?"

Arnold had that pensive look on his face again, like he was really trying to consider his true feelings on the subject. "Actually, I think I'd kind of like to…try it again…"

Helga whipped her head around to look at him, an expression of total shock on her face. Arnold blushed furiously and looked away from her. "But, um…but Phoebe was nice enough to fix the VCR, so we should probably just watch the movie," he finished quickly, trying his best to laugh slightly and smooth over the moment but failing miserably.

Inside, Arnold couldn't ever recall feeling as nervous and nauseous as he did right now. '_I __can't__ believe I just said that __out __loud__! I __can't__ believe that I just __told__ her that I wanted to—_' Arnold closed his eyes and placed a hand to one of his temples, sighing to himself. '_I mean, I want to be honest with her about everything, but…I just…and then we just…and then __I__ just_…' He sighed to himself again and tried to think it through calmly. '_I just grabbed a girl and kissed her, and then kissed her back when she __really__ kissed me, and then __really,__ REALLY kissed her myself, and then told her I wanted to do the whole thing one more time.' _ Arnold allowed that sentence to sink into his head for a second on the off chance that somehow this simple summation of what had just happened between him and Helga would make it seem any less embarrassing. He sighed to himself once more. '_No--it's still pretty bad_.' He almost had to smile to himself, though, as one final thought occurred to him. '_Well, I guess I understand now why she kept running away every time I tried to talk about the FTi building. It really is all a lot weirder to deal with when __you're__ the one confessing_.'

Meanwhile, the second Arnold had finished his backpedaling about the movie, Helga had turned away from him, her eyes still wide with shock. '_Try it again…try it again? Try it __AGAIN__! Where the HECK is __this__ randomly coming from after seven years of politeness and modesty and morality?!?! I mean, seriously, where's the candid camera, and when do I get my pat on the back and handshake from Ronnie Matthews or some other 'has-been' for being 'such a good sport'?!'_

Their separate thoughts finishing, Arnold and Helga sat in silence for a few minutes as the film played on, occasionally eating a piece of popcorn that had fallen on the table as opposed to the floor.

"So…" Helga finally had the courage to begin at one point, still not looking at Arnold. A touch of nerves was apparent in her voice, though she sounded distinctly calmer than she had been a little while ago. "Just for my records…has all this stuff since Monday been your way of telling me that you love me too? Because, otherwise, we've got some _serious_ mixed signals going on, Football Head—I mean, even more than usual."

Arnold, likewise still facing forward (and likewise having had a chance to calm down a bit from some of the events and exchanges of not too long ago), almost felt a smile come to his mouth at that last sentence of hers. "Well…" he started slowly, deciding to really consider how to put his feelings before just blurting them out, "let's just say that I figured out sometime Monday that I like that you love me…which is part of the reason why I did all that stuff on your front steps that night." He paused and took a breath before continuing. "And after what just happened…after _everything_ that's happened… I guess I kind of like the idea of loving you, too." He smiled and glanced at her just slightly out of the corner of his eye. "Gerald says I'm 'falling in love' with you."

"Can you…can you repeat that, please, Football Head?" She still didn't look at him. Her voice made it sound like she wasn't quite sure she had heard him right.

Arnold raised an eyebrow at the request, but then just took a breath and replied unsurely (still not understanding why she would want him to say it once more), "You mean, that I'm falling in love with you?"

"Uh…again, please, if…if you don't mind…" came her still unsure voice.

Arnold couldn't help a smile coming to his face at her continued disbelief. He turned to her. "I'm falling in love with you."

"Just…just one more time…"

Arnold sighed and rolled his eyes, deciding upon the only way he was probably going to ever satisfy her. "I, Arnold, am falling in love with you, Helga G. Pataki."

"Oh…" Helga responded yet again, her voice and body having completely tensed up once more, "uh…_great_…" She was feeling short on adjectives at the moment, which she figured was a result of the severe lightheadedness currently taking her over. She swallowed hard and did her best to speak in an attempt to keep herself from just plain fainting. "When I come out of the complete and utter state of shock that I'm now in, I might…I think I'll…" She paused—she could not even _imagine_ that far into the future: a future where Arnold actually had feelings for her! "Well…I'm not really sure what's going to happen but, knowing me, it might involve another kiss or something at some point. Fair warning."

Arnold could feel the smile getting stronger on his lips at hearing some of her usual humor continuing to slowly return, despite how nervous she seemed. "Oh…okay…_sounds_ _good_."

He'd added the last two words with just a touch of anticipation and Helga couldn't help but whip around to look at him again in total bewilderment. Arnold saw her reaction out of the corner of his eye and glanced away, trying to focus on the TV screen again. "I-I mean, whatever you say, Helga."

That familiar response actually got a small, even mildly relaxed laugh out of her. She turned back to the movie.

The film played on for a while, and the two of them continued watching without making much sound or expressing much emotion despite the fact that body parts were getting severed off left, right and sideways directly in front of them.

Finally, Arnold heard a more typical laugh come from Helga. "Hey, you know, what? That kiss helped _me_ figure out something too_, _Football Head."

"Really?" Arnold glanced at her. "What?"

Helga took another bite of popcorn, still observing the horror film. "How to shut you up and keep you that way."

Arnold tried not to laugh. Then, randomly enough, something occurred to him that he had been meaning to ask Helga about if they were ever on good enough terms and if he ever got the courage.

"Say…Helga?"

She sighed. "Great, I spoke too soon."

He just smiled and continued. "I was just wondering…about your confession…now, I understand the 'stalking me night and day' part and the 'filling volumes of books with poems about me' part…Do you think sometime soon you could explain the 'building shrines to me' pa—"

He was cut off by the sudden feeling of her lips on his own. She didn't kiss him nearly as intensely as before, though—just something small and firm.

Helga pulled away from him after a few seconds and sighed. "Football Head, you talk too much. Just…accept what you know about me and go with it for now because, let me tell you, I am NOT showing up in your room any time soon to drop off hard evidence of THAT one!"

Arnold just grinned and touched his lips that Helga had just finished kissing. He looked to her. "Uh...that's fair, I guess."

Helga shifted back to her end of the couch with a smile, and resumed watching the movie. A few more minutes passed. "You know," she was trying to speak in an almost casual voice, but she was making sure to keep her eyes glued to the screen and away from his, and this effort wasn't lost on Arnold, "just for _your_ records—you're not a lousy kisser, Arnold. Not at _all_."

"Uh…thank you, Helga." Arnold cleared his throat, a touch of embarrassment and yet also just a bit of…pride in his voice. "I'll keep that in mind around the Boarders."

She laughed a little and he laughed a little, and then they resumed watching the movie once more, though feeling much more relaxed than they had during the first part.

* * *

"Well, goodnight once again, Football Head." Helga jerked her thumb back in the direction of the Pataki living room, which now looked just as it had before Arnold had arrived almost two hours ago. "And thanks, again, for helping me clean up that little mess that we, uh…that happened after the…well, just, _thanks_," she stammered, trying not to blush yet again. The two kids were currently standing on Helga's stoop and saying their goodbyes in the cool night air now that the film had ended, thus signaling the end of their 'forced date' and the beginning of the 'official sleepover.'

Arnold smiled and tried not to chuckle at her awkward hesitations. "You're welcome, Helga. Have fun with Olga and everyone tonight. And don't torture them _too_ much, okay?" He winked at her. "I mean, it wasn't _such_ a bad date, was it?"

Helga, despite her best efforts, actually did blush slightly at this comment. She glanced away from him, smiling a bit herself. "Not HORRIBLE. I mean, definitely better than when we had to clean dishes at Chez Paris…"

Arnold laughed at the memory.

"…Or that time when you tried to keep a date with Ruth McDougal AND that blonde chick who faked being your French pen pal, Cecile," she added, glancing hesitantly at him.

Arnold continued laughing. "Yeah, that was—" His eyes went wide and suddenly an impressed grin came to his face.

Helga just shook her head, smiling. "Once again, so slow, sometimes, Arnoldo. But," she shrugged, "I'm in a generous mood, especially since you let the 'shrines' thing go so easily."

"But…" he looked at her, still grinning in disbelief, "how did you even manage to—I mean, how would you have even known to—and where did you learn how to—and how did I not…" He had about a million questions.

Helga just waved him off. "I'll explain it to you one of these days, Football Head." She glanced back inside. "Right now, though, I have to prepare for the 'bowels of the slumber party underworld' complete with makeovers, manicures and mushy movies. Ugh," she rolled her eyes, "I almost can't wait until Monday!"

Arnold was still smiling at her, but at the mention of the word Monday his face fell slightly. "Hey, Helga?"

"Yeah?" She turned back to him.

"About Monday…I mean, about school…How should we…how should we act, you know, around each other?"

Helga blinked, surprised by the question. "You mean…should I start tossing love notes at you instead of spitballs? And should you start winking at me every time I do it instead of giving me one of those really annoyed (but _really_ amusing) faces like you used to when you had no clue about the real reason I'm always torturing you?"

He laughed slightly and nodded. That was one way to put it.

Helga took a breath and considered for a second. Then she looked at him. "Arnold…you know, you're not the only one who likes that I love you: _I _like that I love you, too. Heck, I'll admit it—I like that part of myself _a lot_. But…" she glanced away again, "I'm just not ready to 'share it with the world,' or anything. I mean, just having the 'poetry' thing be a part of what everyone knows about me now is hard enough…I can deal with it, though, thanks to you." She smiled at him and he smiled back. She continued, nervously rubbing her left arm with her right hand. "And I can even kind of handle _not_ pretending I don't care about you in front of the few people who actually know my secret." She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye, putting her arms behind her back. "But that's _all_ I can handle for right now… It's all a lot of change and I'm going to need time." She grinned and tried not laugh. "_You_ know what that's like, Football Head—needing time to come around?" She gave him a playful punch in the shoulder.

Arnold just smiled, rubbing the area she'd just jabbed. "Yeah, I think I can understand that pretty well." He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away from her. "To tell you the truth…I'm kind of glad you'd like it to stay a secret."

Helga blinked, unsure of how to respond to this statement.

Arnold cleared his throat and tried to explain. "I mean, I don't think I'd mind if everyone found out that I…" he hesitated and blushed, "I mean, about our secret, but I…kind of like having it all be something just between us. It's a little exciting, you know." He looked up at her and winked.

She blushed, a smile already on her face from the cute way he'd stuttered when talking about how he felt about her. "Really?"

"Yeah." He laughed. "I mean, I loved all the adventures we had last weekend, and then when Phoebe came downstairs before and we had to pull apart and scramble so she wouldn't see us together… That was great!"

Helga couldn't help laughing at his enthusiasm. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Well, I guess I never thought about all those times that I barely managed to keep my secret in tact as 'great'…'terrifying' maybe, 'nightmarish' yes, but not 'great.' " She looked at him and smiled. "But, you know, it _is_ a little bit more fun with you in the loop, Football Head."

The two of them laughed once more. As they finished, they just stood in silence for a few moments, enjoying the last bit of their time alone this evening and the cool night air drifting quietly around them.

"Well," Arnold swallowed hard and stepped forward, breaking the quiet, "I guess since this is technically a date, I should technically kiss you goodnight…" '_She's either going to jump on me or hit me with something again for doing this, isn't she?_' He sighed to himself and couldn't help but smile. '_Well…at least I'm prepared this time.'_

Helga blinked and felt her heart race for about the millionth time this evening as she watched him suddenly approach her with that wonderful half lidded gaze of his…and just a touch of that strange gleam in his eyes that she'd seen in the instant before he'd kissed her the second time around in her living room. "Sheesh, Football Head…" she managed to say with a nervous smile, taking a step back toward the door, "don't you think you could use a break, or something? I mean, heck, even _I_ could use a break at this point. Heh, heh…" Not that she didn't absolutely _love_ kissing her beloved under any and all circumstances, but this new slightly aggressive Arnold was something (Helga had come to the conclusion) that she really needed to absorb in small doses…and she'd gotten a huge taste of it already tonight. '_Sheesh, it was hard enough for me to __not__ be all over him when he was just cute and dense—now I've got to resist him when he's cute and __trying to come on to __**me**__?!' _Helga considered her dilemma for a second. '_Actually…I can work with this.'_

The sudden sound of girlish squeals instantly interrupted the moment as well as Arnold and Helga's separate thoughts, and caused them both to glance at the window near the door where Olga and Lila could plainly be seen smiling widely at their handiwork and practically bursting with delight at the fact that it looked like there was going to be a goodnight kiss! Suddenly, Phoebe appeared at the window with a very scolding look on her face, trying to pull the two other girls back into the hallway.

Helga glared at the window. "Alright, you guys, the show's over! Nothing's going to happen so you can just cool it and—" Helga felt Arnold kiss her left cheek very quickly, and instantly stopped talking.

He pulled away, glancing down and smiling. "Sorry. I wasn't sure, last time, which cheek Brainy had kissed and I just wanted to make sure that I got both of them." He took a breath and looked at her again. "Goodnight, Helga." He turned back to the window. "Goodnight Olga, Lila, Phoebe…Lila, if you could bring that book back to me on Monday at school I'd appreciate it." He turned his smile to Helga once more and then headed down the stoop and toward the nearby bus stop.

A second passed. "Arnold!" Helga suddenly called out to him.

He stopped and looked back at her, an eyebrow raised. She glanced at the window where her sister and two classmates still remained, and, for a second, considered just running up to him and whispering to him privately what she wanted to ask. However, instead, Helga took a deep breath, turned away from the other girls, and decided, for once, to try being just a little more open about her relationship with Arnold (even if it was in front of people who already knew about them. Baby steps, after all.)

She cleared her throat. "Next weekend…after we get through school, I mean…do you want to maybe do something together…like another…you know, 'date?' " She couldn't even begin to look at him, let alone at the two or three eager figures who, she was sure, were still plastered against the window.

"I thought you'd never ask." Helga glanced up in surprise at how warm and truly happy Arnold's reply to her request sounded. He smiled at her as he continued. "Come over to my room Friday afternoon and we can finish up where we left off…" Suddenly, he blinked and blushed at the implications of what he had just said, and Helga felt her heart pounding and her stomach twist. "I mean…" Arnold glanced away, "with _talking_ and stuff…" He was trying his best to get away from the awkward moment, but he knew he wasn't doing a very good job. Finally, Arnold just sighed and looked back at Helga with a smile, accepting that an even greater abundance of these little 'awkward moments' was probably going to be one of those permanent 'changes' in his and Helga's relationship now that he wasn't in denial about loving her just a little. He did his best to conclude things. "I'll leave the window open. And your rope's still there, by the way." He winked and Helga swallowed hard, blushing just a little bit more, if that was possible.

A bus pulled up to the stop, and Arnold approached the door. Before getting on, though, he turned back around once more to wide-eyed girl who was still staring at him. "And bring another pink book—I'd love some more poems to read." Before she could even respond to that one, he was on the bus and it was pulling away.

Helga just stood there for a couple of seconds in the cool night air, still in a bit of shock about this exchange with Arnold, and especially about the last thing he had just said to her. Finally, she recalled that her two friends and her sister were probably still eagerly awaiting her return inside, and shook her head. '_I am going to HATE going back into my house, aren't I_?' She took a deep breath and couldn't help but smile slightly, though, at the thought of the wonderful thing she'd gotten (a second date with Arnold) in exchange for an inevitable night of razzing by at least two of the three girls currently on the other side of the Pataki door. _'Oh, well…here goes nothing.'_

She opened the door and entered the foyer, where she was indeed met with the eager faces of Olga and Lila. Phoebe just alongside the two girls, tapping her foot and looking at both of them like they were a couple of the most immature people on the planet.

Helga rolled her eyes at the sight of them. "Not a word. Now, come on—let's do this whole slumber party thing while I'm still in too good a mood to maim you all for that little 'date' stunt."

* * *

Several hours later, the room was dim and the food bowls were empty, and four figures were sitting up in their sleeping bags on the floor.

"Well, I suppose we should all get to sleep now." Olga Pataki surveyed the three young girls around her with a smile. "I don't want to keep you girls up too late and, besides, tomorrow I want us to rise bright and early so that we can prepare a nice breakfast and I can get this place clean as a whistle. Then we can spend the _whole_ day together going shopping and to the theatre and maybe even for a drive into the country!"

"Oh, that sounds oh too wonderful, Olga," Lila concurred, beaming. "I'm looking forward to it just ever so much!"

Phoebe glanced over at Helga, an eyebrow raised. Helga shifted near her and whispered with a smile, "Don't worry—I switched her alarm from 6 am to 6 pm and set the one on my watch for 10, there's some breakfast burritos in the freezer that we can sneak out of here in under two minutes flat, and I've already got two tickets to Dino Land with our names on them." She winked at her best friend, and Phoebe couldn't help but giggle.

"What's so funny, Phoebe?" asked Olga innocently, hearing her laughter.

"Oh," Phoebe cleared her throat, "nothing. Uh, your plans for tomorrow sound delightful, Olga."

Olga smiled. "Thank you, sweetie." She yawned, and reached up to turn off the single lamp that was still on. She hesitated once more before twisting the switch. "Well, goodnight, girls. And Helga...?"

Helga blinked at being addressed. She sat up, looking to her sister. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad you and Arnold had fun on your date." She giggled, and Lila joined in.

Helga rolled her eyes and scowled. "Oh, _please_—I already told you that I _can't_ _stand_ him." Helga knew her sister wasn't going to buy it, but she was still not about to give her the satisfaction of outright admitting that she was right about how her 'baby sister' truly felt about Arnold, or that her plan this evening had actually worked out really, really, REALLY well. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "He just did all that stuff out on the stoop to make it so that you guys would give me a hard time when I came back inside."

"And the second date you asked him on?" asked Olga with a wry smile.

Helga rolled her eyes again and tried not to blush. "Hey, it was just a joke! You know—he 'kissed me,' I 'asked him out.' It was all part of the show! Sheesh, I don't know _why_ everyone is so obsessed with me and Arnold!"

Olga laughed once more. "Okay, baby sister, whatever you say!" And, with that, she finally clicked off the light.

In the darkness, Phoebe shifted her sleeping bag a little closer to Helga's and smiled. "And was whatever happened in the living room just a part of 'the show' as well, Helga?" she whispered, trying not to grin.

Helga was glad for the safety of the darkness because she suddenly felt her cheeks grow very warm. She cleared her throat. "Uh…I don't know what you're talking about, Pheebs," she whispered back. "We were just…watching a movie."

Phoebe giggled quietly. "Of course, Helga. How silly of me."

Helga smiled smugly. "How are things going with Gerald, by the way?"

That sent a blush to _Phoebe's_ cheeks. "Oh…um…quite well. He's a very good…friend, Helga."

Helga laughed slightly. "_Right_…Well, I'm just glad I finally brought you two around. Crimeny, you were almost getting as bad as _me_ with the whole 'secret' thing!"

"Oh, Helga…" Phoebe laughed. Then she yawned. "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Pheebs."

Silence.

"Helga?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about not telling you about the date. And I'm really happy for you."

"Don't worry about it, Phoebe. You were just trying to get me to face Arnold...and I don't I have to tell you that it actually worked out a lot better than I expected it to. Just help me wake up early tomorrow and put a few purple streaks in Lila and Olga's hair before we head out, and we'll call it even."

Phoebe smiled. "Helping!"

Helga smiled too. "And," she was now referring to the second thing Phoebe had said to her, "thanks."

Helga could faintly make out Phoebe smiling in the darkness, and then she heard her yawn once more. In a few minutes, her breathing had slowed, and Helga could tell she was asleep.

Helga listened carefully and soon the slow breathing of Lila and Olga met her ears as well. Her parents had arrived home not long ago and they were already upstairs in their bed. Finally alone, Helga reached around her neck and pulled out her Arnold locket. She glanced at the face for a second, smiling, and then unlatched it. A small folded piece of paper fell out and she carefully unfolded it and held it close to her, lying there with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. She brought the page to her lips and did her best to use it to muffle the faint squeal of delight that suddenly escaped from her throat. '_Arnold's falling in LOVE with me! He's really, actually, truly__ falling in love with me! And he thinks I'm a GREAT kisser, and he LIKES kissing ME, and he almost sounded like he actually wants to do it AGAIN sometime soon!!!' _She could feel herself brimming over with love again, and actually had to stop herself from laughing as she realized, with her smiling lips still pressed against the page bearing some of Arnold's most true feelings about her, '_ And it's all because Simmons asked me to help him with a stupid poem_! _A __poem__! How freaking ironic is that_?!' She let out another girlish sigh to ease her tension, though, again, she tried to make it as quiet as possible.

Phoebe, though, being a light sleeper, suddenly found herself blinking and sitting up in the darkness at the strange sound that randomly met her ears. "Helga," she whispered, "are you okay?"

Helga sat up, her eyes wide, and did her best to quickly fold up Arnold's poem and hide it safely again inside of her locket. "Uh…yeah. Sorry, Pheebs. I was just…having a dream."

"Oh," Phoebe yawned. "Okay, Helga. Goodnight, again."

"Goodnight, Phoebe." Helga stretched and lay back down, closing her eyes. "Hey, Phoebe?"

"Mmm hmm?" Phoebe replied tiredly.

"Remind me, in the morning, to send Simmons a muffin basket or something…" She paused as both Lila and Olga—the two individuals responsible for her little make-out session with Arnold that evening—suddenly snored slightly in their sleeps. Lowering her voice so as to not bother them anymore, she laughed and added to Phoebe, "And, what the heck—remind me to use the _temporary_ hair dye on Mary Sunshine and her 'ever so' perfect sidekick, too."

Phoebe yawned again, though this one was coupled with a curious look. The young girl was very tired, however, so she didn't bother to question Helga's instructions. "Reminding."

Helga G. Pataki yawned as well. She closed her eyes and smiled, and in a little while fell into a lovely sleep, her occasionally fluttering heart slowly warming the cool locket which lay atop it.

* * *

**A/N:**

Oh man, I hope that was in character! I don't know about you guys, but I think 'falling in love' Arnold is much more fun than 'I do not love Helga' Arnold ANY DAY. Okay, so get along to Epilogue 2—I should warn you it's not nearly as intense as this one but it's pretty fun and gives a nice little conclusion to everything ;) I hope you all like it and that you liked this Epilogue!

~Azure129 aka Jenna


	16. Epilogue 2: More Than a Dreaming?

**A/N:**

Would I really pull some lame 'it was all a dream' stunt when it comes to this story? Reading through it again, I noticed that I _did_ use a lot of phrases and words related to sleeping and dreaming…so, is that all a coincidence or was I really trying to subtly foreshadow some great big lame cliché plot twist? Find out the answers to these questions (and more) below :)

**TUTORING ARNOLD**

**Epilogue 2: **

**More Than a Dreaming?**

**(Boston reference FTW!)**

**

* * *

**

_Ring. Ring._

"Hello?"

"Arnold, man, ARNOLD—I am SO glad you answered!"

"Gerald," Arnold hesitated before continuing, "are you okay?"

He heard his best friend shudder. "Aw, man, I don't know—I woke up from a nap and I'm pretty sure I just had the most INSANE dream ever!"

There was pause. Finally, he heard Arnold speak again in an exasperated voice. "Gerald…I don't think—"

"No, Arnold," he knew that tone in his friend's voice, "I know this is random and that it's close to dinnertime, but just hear me out! There was you and Helga, and some kind poetry assignment two Fridays ago. And she was helping you all day Saturday, and then on Sunday I tried to get you out of it and she freaked…"

"Gerald…"

"…And then…oh man…and then you started sticking up for her and you dragged me and you and Lila to her house, and we had to break in and you were apologizing to her and then you got into a huge fight and you KISSED her!"

"Gerald…"

"…And THEN I thought her parents and her sister were going to kill us when they found us all there. So, then I went into her kitchen to get her and Lila, and I found out that she LOVED you!" He scoffed. "Man, _that_ had to be the _craziest_ thing. I am STILL reeling from that! I mean, Helga—in LOVE—with YOU!"

Arnold sighed again. "Gerald…"

"…And then we all came back to the boarding house, and Helga tutored everybody in poetry and then they left. And then I was talking to her and she basically admitted that all the stuff about loving you was true, and you guys had _another_ fight that _I__ broke up_!"

Arnold's sigh was much more exasperated this time. "Gerald!"

"No, Arnold, listen, because this is where it gets REALLY WEIRD! So, then we went to school the next day but she wasn't around and you were actually MISSING her! And you missed Helga so much that you wrote this—this—this POEM about her and handed it in to Mr. Simmons!"

This time Gerald just heard the tired sigh on the other end of the line.

He kept going. "And randomly enough he READ IT to the whole class and then they figured out it that was about her and they were chasing her around the whole building… And then _you_ ran off somewhere and somehow you two ended up in a closet and had another big fight. And I think there was another KISS involved!" Gerald shuddered. "And then you used the air ducts to get to Mr. Simmons' room but the other kids found you, and so Helga bluffed to Rhonda to make her leave and get everyone to go with her—something about Curly and poetry…I don't know, it all gets a little fuzzy. Oh, but then BRAINY liked HELGA and you were JEALOUS! _JEALOUS, man_!!! And then you and Helga and me and Phoebe all got ice cream at Slausen's. And then everything after that is some kind of mix of normal school days and you two hanging out in secret for the past two weeks!" Gerald let out an exhausted sigh as he finished his story. He just stayed on the line, panting for a few seconds and catching his breath.

Finally, he inhaled deeply and tried to speak again, though much more calmly this time. "Arnold…I just need you to talk me down, man. I don't know what I ate or what freaky movie I watched, but I need you to _talk __me __down_ because I am the _Keeper of the Urban Legends_ and this story is freaking even _ME_ out!"

The silence continued on the other end of the line. Gerald raised an eyebrow. "Arnold?"

There was another second of silence, and then a very unexpected voice came out of Gerald's receiver.

"Hey, tall hair boy?" She sighed. "Need help with something? Like, NOT having a ridiculous and totally overly-dramatic mental breakdown, maybe?"

Gerald remained silent, his eyes going wide. He cleared his throat and managed to squeak out, "Helga?"

"Good guess, Geraldo. At least you're coherent enough to recognize the sound of my voice."

Gerald just closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and index finger. "It wasn't a dream, was it?" he asked in a flat voice.

"Gerald, Gerald, Gerald…" Helga began, "Now, not too long ago, Arnold mentioned to me that joke you made a few weeks back about how you were only so good at helping us after you found out my secret because 'the shock about me loving him hadn't set in yet' or something like that, and that you were probably going to be 'calling him randomly one night in total disbelief' about it. I've gotta say, though, I didn't think you were serious. At least, not _this_ serious."

Gerald just sighed again, a distinct tone of humiliation present.

Helga continued, her voice level with just a touch of annoyance present. "Now, from what Arnold's been telling me over the last week, this is the…" she paused as though double checking the number, "…the _fifth_ time you've called so far: once on last Sunday, once on Wednesday, _twice_ on Thursday, and now tonight. Now, I'm grateful for all the help you gave us two weeks ago and for not blabbing to anyone, Gerald, but if these calls don't stop I'm going to start feeling a little offended."

"Helga," Gerald tried to fake a laugh, "I-I wasn't SERIOUS with all those calls. I-I was just having a little fun with Arnold. You know," he laughed nervously, trying to save some face, "still just 'getting in one more for the road.' Heh, heh…"

There was another second of silence, and then Arnold's voice returned. "Gerald. The first time you called me in tears saying you'd had the worst nightmare of your life. The second time you were hysterically laughing and you said you'd dreamed up the craziest thing in the world and you just _had_ to tell me about it. Then, you called me while you were flipping through the phone book looking for exorcists: and then called back four hours later saying the same thing." Arnold paused and a brief burst of laughter from Helga could be heard in the background. "I STILL don't understand that one…"

Gerald had to laugh a little at the reminders of his recent, strange behavior. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, man. I don't know why this keeps happening. I mean, every time I hang up with you about this, I remind myself that it's _real_ and that it all actually did _happen_…but it's just _not_ sticking."

"Gerald…" Arnold started patiently.

Suddenly, Helga's voice returned with an exasperated sigh. "Then get a post-it note and _stick_ it to your _head_, hair boy, because I have to fake like I can't stand your best friend _enough_ during the week without getting interrupted when we're finally alone together by you and your crazy denial! Now," her voice briefly took on a patronizing tone, "be a good Gerald and go call my best friend—I know she's free tonight and that she's got a couple of Dino Land tickets on her that we couldn't use last weekend because my sister is a light sleeper and can't take a joke. And don't ask me to explain that one because it's a _long_ story—just dial Phoebe's number, already, and worry about your _own_ love life for once!" He cringed at the sound of her slamming Arnold's phone down loudly, and then there was just a dial tone.

Gerald sighed to himself and couldn't help but laugh at what had just happened. He stretched and went over to his desk. "You know, a note's actually not a bad idea. I feel like I'm gonna be having these dreams for a while, anyway." He scribbled something down on a piece of paper. "Arnold and Helga…" he couldn't help but chuckle to himself, "man, I really _am_ gonna need some time with that one…"

He finished the note and read it over to himself. "A and H love each other. It's not a dream or a nightmare. It's real, and reading this note is not part the dream or the nightmare. And H is going to kill you if you call A about it anymore. If the nightmares keep happening, see if P has any ideas about how to fix them." Smiling to himself at this last line, he placed the note on his nightstand near his phone. His eyes falling on the receiver, he hesitated, but then picked it up once more and dialed a number with which he'd recently become very familiar.

The phone rang a few times, and then he heard the click of someone picking up and a familiar quiet voice greeting him and asking with whom he would like to speak. "Hey Phoebe, how's it going?" A pause. "Yeah, I'm doing pretty good, too. Uh, so…I was just wondering if you're free tonight. I heard from a reliable source that you might be interested in heading to Dino Land…." There was a pause on the line as Phoebe spoke and Gerald laughed at her response. "…Yeah, Helga—you got it." There was another pause, and then Gerald blushed slightly and sighed sheepishly. "_Yes_, I called Arnold's house _again_…"

* * *

"_Helga_!" Arnold crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at the satisfied looking blonde before him who had just slammed down his phone.

Helga shrugged. "What?!" she asked innocently. "You've been being _way_ too patient with him, Football Head. Seriously, he needed _someone_ to tell him to just get over it."

Arnold just shook his head and sighed. "Whatever you say, Helga."

She winked at him. "Always the correct response, Arnold." Suddenly, she stood up from his bed and stretched. "Now, come on—we can swap stories and read more sappy love poems and gawk at the other consequences of my 'feelings' later." She jerked a thumb in the direction of outside. "I bribed the Jollie Ollie man to go through the neighborhood selling ice cream for half-off this afternoon so we can actually go to Slausen's again in peace instead of hiding out here in secret. He's only doing it for the next hour, though, so let's get of here, already! And _I'm_ the one who had to slip him a twenty," Helga pointed her thumb at herself, "So _you're_ buying, today, Football Head!" She pointed at Arnold.

Arnold laughed, closing a small pink volume currently in his hands and tossing it onto the end of his bed with two or three others…which were right next to a particular unfolded piece of paper and the currently open locket that, under normal circumstances, contained it.

Not to go into too much detail but, suffice it to say, questions about said locket's mysterious appearance in the boarding house several months ago coupled with Arnold's memory of distinctly feeling something strange near Helga's neck when she had been laying on top of him kissing him last weekend had brought the subject and revelation of it up. Besides, it _did_ hold the only copy of Arnold's poem, and if Helga was laying her written feelings out on the table…er, bed…it _was_ only fair that Arnold should do the same. Anyway, Helga had some serious questions about its contents now that things were finally settled a bit between her and Arnold. In fact, the second she'd shown up in his room, she had opened the locket, unfolded the poem, and asked with a smug look on her face (and much to Arnold's embarrassment), "So…you're dreaming about me?" _That_ had resulted in a _truly_ fun conversation for Arnold involving brief explanations about certain nighttime fantasies involving his cousin's house, the idea of them being married, and (to a very small extent) the dream he'd had about her that Saturday night after their first tutoring session. Despite the temptation to do otherwise, Helga had tried to keep the razzing about all of these 'dream stories' to a minimum…especially considering the next conversation she knew they were going to be having…

In addition to the locket and the pink books, an old math book rested on the bed—something that Helga had brought over today much to Arnold's surprise (especially since she'd so adamantly stated during their 'date' last weekend that she would NOT be dropping him off hard evidence of the third part of her confession any time soon, such as the book in question contained). Needless to say, what was inside of it (a hollow space filled with random objects in a distinctive and familiar football-headed shape) had not only explained the question he'd had about the 'shrines' but also why Helga had been stabbing the interior of it that Monday when she'd been so mad at him and when all of that chaos with his poem had occurred. Helga was right—the shrines thing had taken him a moment or two to digest, and she'd seemed absolutely mortified about explaining it to him: she had basically kept a hand over her eyes and sat as far away from him as possible on his bed with her knees pulled to her chest as she told him, in a dull and quiet voice, about collecting random items and making things like this one so that she could have something a bit more tangible than his picture in her locket to talk to or look at when he wasn't around.

Arnold hadn't been sure what 'horrible reaction' she had been expecting from him upon revealing this information, but she'd seemed more than satisfied when he'd sat down next to her on the end of his bed, gently taken and kissed the back of her hand, and then thanked her for telling him the truth. Of course, them being alone (_again_) and very close to each other (_again_), coupled with Arnold suddenly holding Helga's hand (_again_) had all created another slightly 'tense' moment that had been remedied by an unexpected brief but slow kiss between them (an action which, Arnold had recently admitted to himself, he actually loved. Almost as much as Helga Pataki, _herself_.) And, this time, Helga had done her best to resist the urge to throw herself on top of Arnold, and Arnold had done his best to resist…whatever that urge was he kept suddenly finding himself getting whenever he got close to Helga G. Pataki. '_Well, she was definitely right about one thing--there's a big difference between how I've felt around a girl when I've had a crush, and how I feel when I'm around her..._'

Arnold swallowed hard at the memory of that small kiss and how it had made him feel, and tried to bring his thoughts back to Helga's shrines to help alleviate the blush he could already feel coming to his cheeks. '_After all, even if the 'shrines' are a little… unusual…aren't they just another part of who Helga really is? I mean, it's not like she's hurting anyone by doing it or anything—she's just being herself. And isn't that exactly what I've been trying to get her to do ever since this whole thing started two weeks ago?_' Besides, after all the other stuff he'd discovered about her, was a shrine _really_ even _all that_ strange (or even much stranger than, say, saving a red sling-back shoe in his closet for months after some 'blonde chick' had faked being his French pen pal in order to go out to dinner with him one night)? _'I should probably bring the shoe thing up to her later—' _he couldn't help but add as an afterthought. '_Maybe it'll help make her feel better about the math book_…' he smiled, '_and maybe she'll finally fill me in on the whole Cecile thing_.'

Arnold's eyes suddenly fell on the textbook/shrine in question. '_It's almost kind of cute that she likes me enough to do all that, actually…_' He couldn't help but smile to himself. _'But..._' he tried to recall the exact words of Helga's confession again, though, after all these weeks, it was starting to get a little fuzzy, '…_Didn't she also say something about a shrine in a…closet…?_' He considered for a second, but then let the thought drop and tried not to laugh to himself. '_Maybe she's right—I should probably just 'accept what I know about her and go with it.' ' _He recalled what she had said to him last weekend when he'd asked about the shrines. '_For now…_' He mentally added the last two words of her advice with a grin.

"Arnold? Hey, Arnold!" Helga called impatiently, trying to get him out of his daze.

At the sound of her voice, Arnold shook his head to clear it and then smiled at the girl in front of him. "Oh, sorry, Helga." He stood up. "Yeah—ice cream sounds good. Let's go!"

And at that moment, for the first time ever, Helga headed for the door to get out of Arnold's room while Arnold headed for the skylight and the fire escape.

The two of them paused in their opposing journeys and looked at each other. Then they burst into laughter.

There was a knock on Arnold's door and, suddenly, it opened. "Hey, Shortman—you and your little 'friend' still having a good time up here?" asked Grandpa, smiling slyly.

Arnold nodded to his grandfather, ignoring the slightly suggestive emphasis on the word 'friend.' "Yeah, Grandpa. We were just going to head out to Slausen's for some ice cream."

Grandpa's eyes lit up. "Oh, you kids should head up the street to the Jollie Ollie man instead—I just heard from that bum Kokoschka that he's giving stuff away for half price!"

Arnold and Helga looked at each other again and then burst into laughter once more.

Grandpa raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two ten-year-olds. "Am I missing something, Shortman?" he asked with confusion.

Arnold got his laughter under control. "No, Grandpa… I think we'll stick with Slausen's, though—It'll be less crowded."

The sly smile was back on Grandpa's face. "Oh, some 'alone time,' huh? Considering your budget, not a bad place for a date, Shortman! Heh, heh, heh!"

Arnold blushed. "Grandpa!" he exclaimed in embarrassment.

"So, Arnold finally came around, did he?" Ignoring his grandson's plea, he was now addressing Helga.

Helga blinked, and Arnold looked on with uncertainty about how she would respond to such a direct question about her secret. To his surprise, though, she just smiled at Grandpa and replied with ease (and just a touch of satisfaction), "Well, not _fully,_ but he's getting really close. It took _a __lot_ of things, though, let me tell you." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and gestured back to Arnold with her head, grinning slyly. "I mean, what was it—our seventh or eighth kiss before you finally admitted you don't just like me, Football Head?" She turned back to Grandpa and rolled her eyes. "Seriously, I think we'll have to be celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary before he just outright says that _he_ loves _me_ too."

Arnold just sighed and put his head in one of his hands, shaking it back and forth, though a smile was apparent on his face as was the fact that he was trying very hard not to chuckle at her sarcasm.

Grandpa laughed. "Oh, I _like_ her, Shortman—no beating around the bush, just tell it like it is!" He put a hand to his chin. "Reminds me of your Grandma, actually…" His sentence was cut off by the sound of a distinctive rumble of the gastrointestinal variety. "Oh! I _knew_ I shouldn't have had those raw-food fruit granola bars Pookie's been dehydrating on the back porch—Remember, Shortman, _never_ eat raspberries!!!" And with this familiar sentiment, Grandpa high-tailed it out of the room.

Helga turned back around to Arnold, a slight smirk on her face. "Well, now that I've confirmed for your Grandpa that I'm not just your 'playmate' and that _you've_ finally become aware of that fact too, are we getting out of here by the door or the window which, if I remember correctly, leads to a straight plummet to the street below since the fire escape's out of commission?" Of course, Arnold had made that joke last Saturday about leaving her rope hanging outside, but Helga had been _WAY_ too shy and nervous, all things considered, to not just use the door like a regular person upon arriving at the Boarding House this afternoon.

"Helga," Arnold sighed, though he was still smiling and still trying to hold back some laughter at how blunt she'd just been, "I know I told you Grandpa already knows everything, but if you keep saying stuff like that around him, it's going to get back to the Boarders at some point and then back to me…"

Helga shrugged. "Hey, you have to live with six cool people who know, and I have to occasionally get visited by the most annoying person on the planet who knows, and who has decided it is her duty as a big sister to see that we're married to each other one day." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Not to mention I've been having to deal with the awkwardness of people randomly finding everything out for the last seven years, but you only have what—a month and a half under your belt? Trust me—we're not even _close_ to even, yet."

Arnold wanted to argue the point with her a bit more but couldn't help finally giving in to a bout of warm laughter at the funny way she always had of putting things. Besides, who really cared what the Boarders found out, anyway—at least Mr. Potts would never be able to accuse him again of having no experience with girls, right?

The smile still on his face, Arnold recommenced walking in the direction of the wall ladder leading to his skylight. He stopped at his bed and sat down, and then turned to Helga. "_Anyway_…" he started, trying to move the conversation along, "about that 'straight plummet down to the street below' you were talking about," he gestured with his head in the direction of the roof, "the fire escape actually just finished getting fixed along with the ceiling this morning." He glanced down shyly. "Now that it's okay, again, I even stopped locking the window to get in and out. Just…so you know…"

Helga felt herself blush and her heartbeat quicken at how he seemed to be slightly suggesting that she drop in a little more often than just the now standard Friday afternoons…and possibly (though, once again, this might have been her infatuation talking) during times when no one would be around (or awake...?) to answer the door.

She shrugged, trying to nervously laugh off Arnold's comment, and did her best to move the conversation along herself. "Uh, fire escape or door—whichever way floats your boat, Football Head…" She got a slightly mischievous look in her eyes, though, as the perfect way to embarrass Arnold back for his comment to her about the window occurred to her. "Although, if we take the stairs and I see any of the Boarders I can make sure to specifically correct my mistake two weeks ago about the quality of your kissing—"

Arnold smiled and rolled his eyes, cutting her off and ignoring the sarcastic comment (though, to Helga's satisfaction, he was indeed blushing now slightly as well). "How about we race? You take the stairs, I take the fire escape and we see who can make it to the front stoop first? I'll even use the rope to get down to make it a fairer race, if you want. What do you say?" He grinned at her.

Helga put her hands on her hips and smiled at him. "What—you make one successful trip through an air vent two weeks ago and suddenly you're 'secret agent man'? Next thing you'll tell me is that you want to try breaking into the school and Simmons' room again on the way to Slausen's, just for fun. Or better yet, we can just skip Slausen's altogether and hit up the teacher's lounge for some free snacks and sodas—Do you also think we should make a quick drop into Wartz' office to score some confiscated video games and comic books while we're at it, or would that be pushing our luck?"

Arnold laughed at the sarcastic comment. "Well, if I ever wanted to try any of those things, I would definitely come to you first. You'd be an excellent _tutor_." He winked.

Helga rolled her eyes dramatically. "Football Head, you're barely scraping by as a poet—leave the puns and wordplay to the seasoned veterans because that line was actually physically painful. Really—I'm going to need at least two extra toppings once we finally get ice cream just to cope with it."

Arnold chuckled at her. "Only if you beat me downstairs!" He winked at her, and then suddenly stood up and climbed over his bed, up the wall ladder, and out of the skylight, ending up on the landing of the new fire escape.

Helga scoffed and called out playfully, "Yeah, right—like _I'd_ ever lose to _you_, Football Head. If Gerald ever needed a _really_ implausible topic for his nightmares, it would be _that_!"

She heard his laughter float faintly back into the room at her comment.

Helga laughed slightly herself at the sound. '_Still…' _saying Gerald's name had suddenly recalled for her his most recent phone call to Arnold's room,_ 'I almost can't blame tall hair boy for the crazy calls—heck, how many times did__ I__ pinch myself that weekend trying to wake up from the nightmare…and then later trying to confirm that all the stuff after wasn't just some wonderful dream?'_ Helga glanced at the items on the bed, her eyes briefly falling on the math book with a blush. '_I can't believe I __actually__ told him about the shrines… I mean, it's only the textbook shrine but still…ugh, even __I__ wanted to tell me to get out and never come back, after that. But at least this way the worst is over—there's nothing more humiliating than that little fun fact that Arnold could possibly find out about me (except, maybe, for the closet shrine—but we can take things one step at a time…), so, really, we can only go __up__ from here. Besides, I'm kind of starting to like this whole 'honesty' thing...and the kiss he gave me after I told him the truth wasn't too bad, either…_' She sighed mentally, a grin forming on her face. '_I knew Football Head would make me go soft if I stayed around here too long._' She laughed to herself at this thought, feeling perfectly happy inside all of a sudden.

Though she was, indeed, planning to take the door and the stairs to get outside, Helga paused for a second and headed in the direction of Arnold's bed. Her eyes met the goal of her journey, and she extended her arm toward the surface of the bed where her locket lay unlatched before her—picture, poem and inscription all openly visible.

Mid-reach, though, Helga hesitated. Suddenly, she smiled, shook her head to clear it, and turned around, heading quickly out of Arnold's door and down the ladder connecting his room to the hallway below. '_Hey, it'll all still be there when we get back, right? Besides, I don't want Football Head to actually get the satisfaction of beating me to something for the first time in his life_!'

And, so, Arnold raced down the side of the Boarding House to meet Helga, and Helga raced through the inside of the Boarding House to get back to Arnold…and both of them briefly left behind the few trinkets on Arnold's bed for a chance to spend time with just the genuine articles.

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**A/N:**

In response to my first A/N at the top of this story: YEAH RIGHT! If this whole fic were a dream even_ I_ would kill _me_, lol. Okay, so this story and all of the random inspiration I got for it has absorbed my life for almost a month. I need a break to work and work out and read something fun instead of writing it and to just clear my head in general. I hope you guys enjoyed this little second ending, and once again thank you to everyone who's read and made writing this story really worthwhile. I hope I did the show some justice.

Happy Reading!

~Azure129 aka Jenna

(And, as always) AXH Forever !!!!


	17. An Update? Yes indeed!

**A/N:**

An update? What the heck is this, you may wonder? Just wanted to make a quick announcement for all of my awesome **TA** fans… ;)

The sequel to "**Tutoring Arnold"** entitled "**Learning to be Helga**" will begin to be posted within the next few weeks, so please stay tuned if you want to read about more wacky adventures with our favorite cartoon couple after the fact of TA!

I want to thank everyone who reviewed TA because I definitely got some of the inspiration for this new story from a lot of the things people mentioned, in **particular Aimi-Chan** who thought it might be interesting to see Arnold's reaction to the closet shrine among other things… That suggestion's actually what started this whole thing, lol (it is a LONG story that I will gladly post in the opening A/N to LBTH if anyone cares to know, lol), and now I've got a draft of a story that's basically finished and about as long as TA was originally (the good news, though, is that since the whole thing is basically written out, no one has to wait three years for a conclusion while I pace the floor cursing my writers block, lol!). Also, I really want to thank **DP-Shrine-in-closet-girl **who's been patient enough to listen to me vaguely rant about the direction of this upcoming story for weeks, and **NintendoGal** who wrote an incredible companion fic to TA called "**Time Alone**" (READ IT!!! This won't be continuous with it but read it anyway because it's just precious and you get to see Arnold tell Helga about his dreams about her ;) ). And also a shoutout to **SuprSingr** whose fics have been entertaining me so much over the last few weeks that every time I thought I might be getting some writer's block, I just thought about all of the hilarious antics she's come up with and got right back to work trying to think up my own :)

Okay, so, a brief synopsis. Basically **"Learning to Be Helga**" starts out on that Saturday after Arnold and Helga's technical 'second date' in Arnold's room in epilogue 2 of TA, takes them through that weekend, jumps a few weeks ahead, and then (of course) ends with an epilogue set in the future. And along the way we do indeed get to see Arnold's reaction to the closet shrine, people have major conversations, new people are brought into certain loops, old people are brought even more into certain loops, Gerald and Phoebe get their fair share of fun (gotta love them!), certain revelations are made, certain revelations are discovered, Arnold gets this monologue at one point about something that I just loved writing…all in all, I just get to have a lot of fun with two characters I love and hopefully entertain you guys a bit ;)

Okay, okay…anyway, I've put a small preview of chapter 1 below (tentatively called…(I'm seriously coming up with this right on the spot)…why don't we say… "**How to Blow a Crazy Scheme in 10 Seconds**" (sorry, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days was on a few weeks ago…anyway…) Okay, so, please let me know what you think and I'll try and be good and start posting this within the next few weeks (and summer's starting soon which means my updates can be a lot more frequent!)

Enjoy!!!

**LEARNING TO BE HELGA (preview)**

**Chapter 1:**

**How to Blow a Crazy Scheme in 10 Seconds**

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She approached her dresser, the thoughts about how much better things seemed in her life still mulling around in her head. '_Well, one thing's for sure—Arnold's __definitely__ having a good effect on me…_' She couldn't help but sigh to herself though and add, '_I just hope all of my insanity isn't messing up my precious little love god TOO badly_…'

And Helga could have just gone to bed with that thought on her mind, completing it in whatever way she desired to ultimately convince herself that, despite her fears about changing him, her presence in Arnold's life couldn't be nearly as significant as his presence in hers. Indeed, she could have slipped into her pajamas and crawled between the sheets and fallen asleep and never been the wiser about what happened next.

Unfortunately, Helga was too observant—and _someone_ was too inept (just yet) at being sneaky—for her NOT to notice the sudden scratch of several branches of the tree just outside against her window.

Helga turned to the window, a twist of fear coming into her stomach. After all, she was alone in the house, it was almost completely dark out now, and the amount of fading sunlight in her room was only growing dimmer and dimmer. '_It…it's just the wind. I need to stop being paranoid and go to bed already! Crimeny, what am I—Three?_' She was trying to rally some of her usual Helga G. Pataki toughness and courage as she had these thoughts. Nonetheless, she felt herself swallow hard with nerves.

"Ah!" A very small yelp escaped her mouth as she swore she saw some slight but very deliberate and constant motion among the dark branches now pressed against her window. Like, in some way, something or someone was indeed managing to use them to reach the second floor of the Pataki household.

Helga took a couple of deep breaths and glanced around her room. Her eyes fell on her baseball bat leaning against her dresser and she grabbed it, a scowl instantly besetting her face. "Alright," she whispered to herself in the darkness, taking a couple of practice swings, "If someone thinks they're robbing the Pataki's blind, they've got another thing coming!" Helga almost couldn't help the slight wish at the very back of her mind that she was the one with dangerous lumber and not her beloved…or that he was here to help her. After all, she'd probably only have one shot at this if there was indeed a prowler lurking around in her yard and trying to get upstairs via her window, and anything (or anyone) that would contribute to the likelihood of her knocking the creep out with one swing would be more than welcome.

Slowly (and very nervously, though the scowl was still firmly on her face), Helga crept over to her bed (avoiding the line of sight from outside the window) and crawled onto the covers. On her knees, she went to the side of the window, as close as she could get. She swallowed and, shakily, raised the bat high in one hand, and in her other hand reached as far back as she could to just touch the switch of the lamp on her nightstand. '_I'm gonna need to be able to see what I'm doing if I'm actually going to try and take this loser out… Besides, the lights suddenly coming on in a supposedly empty house should surprise the heck out of anybody_.' She grinned proudly to herself. The strange movement of the branches continued and then she noticed some steady creaking sounds coming from the wood, not like someone was climbing and occasionally stepping on one limb after another so much as like they were putting constant pressure on one limb in particular—maybe finding a way to pull themselves up using a cord or a rope or something…

Suddenly, and to Helga's great terror (though she was trying to ignore this feeling and focus on putting up a good defensive of the Pataki homestead), she could make out a dark shadow coming through the foliage of the tree. She watched it move closer to the house... Whoever or whatever it was seemed to have some trouble with the window initially (it was unlocked, of course, but there was no way to grip it from the outside to pull it up), but after enough pushing up against the outside frame, they managed to get it open just a little. The amount was just enough for them to slip their hands underneath the window frame…and then they pushed it up as hard as they could, finally opening it wide and letting a blast of cool night air into the room.

That was Helga's cue. She instantly flicked on the lamp switch. "NICE TRY BUCKO BUT YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP PRETTY EARLY IN THE MORNING TO TRY ROBBING A PATAKI!!!" Helga moved herself fully in front of the window and raised the bat high.

She blinked though and her scowl was lost as she saw nothing there. No scary prowler or robber…just the tree as it usually was.

"HELGA…??!?!" Suddenly, she jumped back a bit as she heard some coughing and the rustling of a few more leaves. WHOA!!!"

Helga felt her eyes widen considerably as the most unexpected voice on the planet met her ears. She looked closer at the foliage of the tree and suddenly noticed a hand coming out of all of it, gripping a rope. Arnold's football shaped head emerged as well, though full of twigs and leaves. His exclamation of Helga's name had come from the fact that, as she had turned on her light and dove in front of the window, he had gotten a clear view of her…and the bat she was holding. His, WHOA , however, was the result of nervously trying to free himself from his current position of being tangled amongst the tree branches and the rope he had been using to hoist himself up to the top one so that he could make it to her window without having to climb in the darkness… Now, finally, he felt himself fall forward and out of the bundle of leafy branches, the rope still holding him securely around his waist on one end, though the other end was almost hopelessly tangled in the trees. The end result was that he was now currently hanging down suspended from one of the branches, dangling just below Helga's open window.

"A-Arnold…?" Her mouth hung open and she had an eyebrow raised. Her voice was at a whole new level of incredulity. "Wh-what the—I mean how in the—and how did you—and what are you—and where in the…" She blinked several times in shock, actually speechless for possibly the first time in her life.

For a second she just knelt there, taking in the sight of still totally shocked looking Arnold trying to break into her room. Finally, she lowered the bat to her bed and managed to speak a complete sentence, the flabbergasted look still on her face though. "So, is this a dream I'm having after one too many tainted Mr. Fudgie bars, or did the whole cosmos of the universe actually just invert?"

"Um…" Arnold took several deep breaths, trying to subside his panic as he felt himself finally accepting Helga's sudden (and TOTALLY unexpected) presence at the window. "Okay…I…can explain…" Helga couldn't help but notice the absolute look of mortification on his still surprised face as he said these words. He seemed to be trying to smile to help with the situation a bit…but it was obvious that even _he_ recognized that there was no hope for escaping mounds of awkward embarrassment with this one. "Actually…" he glanced away and she noticed a blush come to his cheeks, "I kind of _can't,_ in a way…"

As the shock of her beloved's unexpected arrival began to ebb, Helga felt herself scowl and she reached out of the window and grabbed the free end of the rope which was just sticking out of the top of the leaves and branches in which it was tangled. "Oh yes, Arnold, you _are_ going to explain to me what the heck you are doing _right __now_ or I swear I'm going to toss this rope as far away from you as possible into the tree, lock my window, shut out all the lights and let you figure out how to get down all on your own. And my parents are going to be home soon…that means my Dad…who's going to remember your face from only two weeks ago. Now, give me a reason to even _begin_ thinking of helping you…"

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**A/N:**

So, what's Arnold doing in Helga's tree? I'm not gonna lie, it's a little precious why he's there ;) And how's Helga going to react? And when do we get to the closet shrine already??? It'll happen soon, you have my word as a fanfic writer!

Happy Reading!!!

~Azure129 aka Jenna

AXH FOREVER!!!


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